Guardian Angels
by 1arigato
Summary: Before they can enter Aslan's Country, the Pevensies must watch over Earth's mightiest heroes until all threats are gone. AU Peter, Edmund, and Lucy don't die on the train, Susan becomes a friend of Narnia again, and the siblings are immortal and have the influences of magic until their time to enter Aslan's Country comes. K plus to be safe
1. Peter & Steve

Peter–Steve/Captain America

Method: Flashbacks/Words

–––

Steve didn't know when it started.

All he knew was that there was a second sense of self, a nuance in his being that would fill his body whenever he faced down another one-sided alley fight, or later, in the military environment where higher-ups barked orders and trainees went through exercises in synchronized motions. Steve Rogers was a skinny guy, but whenever these moments passed, he felt strong, tough, and confident. And something would shadow these feelings: strength of heart, resilience in battle, and trust in allies. It were these things that shaped Steve into a trustworthy, good-hearted soldier, genuine to the core.

In becoming Captain America, these flashes became stronger, but less frequent, as if searching for the kind kid from Brooklyn that seemed to fade away the more the stage acts came and popularity soared. Steve couldn't help but feel lesser of himself too. When he fought with the prisoners in the HYDRA camp, he was gifted with the faint image of cheetahs and minatours charging with him, griffins soaring where airplanes flew. "_**This** is how you fight,_" pulsed throughout Steve's being, but before the blonde could make anything of it, the image and declaration vanished just as quick as they came, and the captain fought on.

Every time, in every battle since then, these kind of statements sounded in his ear and resonated throughout his body, and instead of feeling disoriented from the blur between fantasy and reality, Steve was surged with a new strength. There was power behind every punch and jump, heart behind every word he spoke to his men, and it were in moments like these that he felt like he was breathing fresh air.

The only comparable joy Steve found were two people whom he found were the centre of his life: Bucky and Peggy. Bucky held a brotherly aura about him, caring for Steve just as a younger sibling would, despite the captain easily imagining Bucky as a big brother. As the two took down HYDRA camps, however, it somehow felt right to fight with Bucky on his side, and for the first time in weeks, Steve was gifted with another image. This one struck him harder, like lightning: a dark-haired knight was running next to him, his noble aura so amazing that it was nearly tangible, and Steve caught a glimpse of the warrior's eyes–impossibly enthralling like the night sky, every gaze holding those eyes that could see into one's soul. The image of the knight evaporated immediately, but Steve understood. He was fighting with a trustworthy person, brother in all but blood.

Bucky's death hit Steve hard, but something–a memory, though it couldn't be–played through in his sleep, a dark-haired boy taking a blonde by the collar and telling him to stop getting depressed over something that can't be undone. The blonde shrugged the shorter one off and walked off, before the scene faded. When Steve woke up, he realized the dark-haired boy was the same warrior he saw before, with the strong presence and the eyes that drew people in. Looking up, Steve nearly fell off his chair at the sight of the blonde from his dreams, standing before him. The blonde met Steve's eyes, and he lifted his chin a bit, as if challenging him. "_Are you going to sulk for forever?_" his eyes seemed to say. The captain gazed around him, remembering he had tried getting drunk and ended up destroying a majority of the bar before falling asleep at a table. "No," Steve declared. "I'm not." When he looked back, the blonde was gone, but he sensed the satisfaction.

Peggy was another important person. She had a firmness and self-confidence that allowed her not to be trampled by the men she was surrounded with; Steve admired her for that, and the admiration quickly became adoration. She also put faith in those who soon proved themselves to be reliable, Steve being one of them, and stood loyal to them, even when the majority doubted their capabilities. Her British accent also sent a wave of nostalgia through Steve every time he heard her speak, and a warmth would blossom in his heart whenever he was in her presence. Peggy's tough yet kind character made Steve grin, and his big heart made her smile; the two suitably fell in love, and the men at base respected this and knew not to flirt with the Brit anymore, just as the few women there didn't lay a hand on America's Golden Boy.

When Steve awoke in New York, New York, 70 years later, his first thoughts went to Peggy, silently mourning for the loss of the love of his life. She had died of old age, but her niece relayed to Steve that even in her last moments, the woman thought of him. Margaret "Peggy" Carter died peacefully with a smile, and Steve felt the last weight fall, getting his closure.

The flashes of odd feelings and images of memories not of his own had appeared sporadically since his time waking up from the ice, catching Steve by surprise at first until the soldier eventually came to accept them. Nothing allowed the captain to piece together a reason behind his flashes, but he understood that they'd point him towards making the right decisions or coping with the sudden technology change. Characters other than the dark-haired boy appeared sometimes–a gentle young woman, a red-haired sibling–but the blonde appeared the most often, the memories centered around him sharing life lessons to Steve appropriate to the moment.

It wasn't until Steve became part of the Avengers, however, did he get a full name.

–––

**A/N: I originally had dialogue between Peggy and Peter when Peggy was dying, but I took it out, and the paragraph looked smaller. Hopefully it doesn't look too short and conveys that Peggy died peacefully!**

Next: Susan–Clint/Hawkeye & Natasha/Black Widow


	2. Susan, Clint, & Natasha

Susan–Clint/Hawkeye & Natasha/Black Widow

Method: Music/Sound

–––

Clint Barton stared hard at his target, his arms stiff in holding his bow and arrow in place for so long. The woman was stunning, her red hair and exotic features turning heads everywhere she went. Past her beauty, though, was a tortured soul, knowing there was more to life than killing, but seeing no way to cleanse herself of a dark past. "_Barton, what's taking so long?_" Phil's voice sounded in his earpiece. Clint paused, before relaxing his grip and storing his arrow away. "I'm not doing it, Phil." At the first name, his handler knew there was something personal affecting the agent. "_Barton?_" the man's voice sounded again, but Clint didn't pay attention. "_Barton!_" "She can work with us, Phil." On the other side of the line, Phil sighed.

Sensing his handler and long-time friend was allowing Clint a window of time to do what he wanted, the archer slunk away from his perch and followed the woman down the street by leaping across rooftops, keeping an eye on her at all times. Thankfully, the target was too busy making sure no one was on her tail as she fixed the accessories of her disguise, obviously uncomfortable with the dark shades. The Black Widow never thought of searching the rooftops, but Clint knew she had been on the run for five days straight, no sleep or rest whatsoever. Having observed her for a long period of time, Clint noticed that she hadn't come in contact with the usual kind of underground bosses she got an assassination job from. Had she changed? Had this woman decided enough was enough and wanted to stop killing?

Something shifted in Clint's peripheral vision, and the archer just caught sight of a shadow taking a turn deeper into an alley. When he checked on the Black Widow, the woman hadn't noticed it; Clint wouldn't have seen it either if he wasn't at the position he was, where the reflection of a man disappearing into the shadows could only be seen at an angle from where Clint stood. Something sang within him, the elegant sound of a horn, and before Clint could think, he ran to the side of the building he was on and jumped.

XxXx

Natasha fixed her shades, more in annoyance than in feeling uncomfortable. The Russian felt something build up within her every time she completed an assassination, until, when she couldn't ignore it any longer, she burst. When she tried to finish a job in her homeland, the old man already weakening under her chokehold in the snow, a hawk flew across the treetops of the forest. Natasha watched it soar freely, one with the sky, and she felt her heart ache. Faintly, a beautiful note echoed in the woods, and whether it was her imagination or not, it didn't matter. Almost as if a new Natasha was born, the woman slowly let go of the old man and got up, putting away her knife. She ran across the snow, leaving the forest as fast as she could, and when the old man would regain full consciousness, she'd be long gone.

The snow seemed to suffocate Natasha, a disturbing, foreign feeling associating a Christmas-less winter with the country that never seemed to see a warm summer, so it wasn't a surprise when the woman left Russia shortly after. Now, in the streets of France, Natasha felt warmer, better, even, with the scent of croissants wafting out of cafés and the sun shining even as it set. She was aware of her little shadow–how could she ignore the figure running across rooftops?–but he hadn't made a move to kill her or confront her, and she was content with relaxing in the country of beauty for a little while. As soon as he'd take out a gun, however, Natasha would remind him exactly how she got the title of the Black Widow. She would kill in self-defense, if that was what it took. Old habits are hard to break.

Something rustled behind her, and Natasha turned, just in time to see a man from her last boss raise a gun; he must have realised she didn't finish the job and finally found her location. Natasha panicked; she only knew of the man following her on high positions, never of the lackey sent by her last boss. It was too late, anyway, the one sent to assassinate her was at a distance with enough obstacles that she wouldn't make it in time to kill the man–he was obviously well-informed of her capabilities. The note she heard in the woods sang again, this time from above, and Natasha looked up, her eyes met with the sight of a brunette free-falling. In the back of her mind, she was reminded of the hawk she saw in Russia, but it was promptly pushed aside in the heat of the moment. There was already an arrow nocked on his bow, and she watched as he elegantly let it go, the arrow sailing through the air and into its target. The Russian sent to kill Natasha clawed at his throat, gurgling before falling dead, his gun clattering on the ground. Her saviour performed a tuck-and-roll as he landed, smoothly strapping his bow on his back as he did so. "Come on," he grabbed her hand and pulled her away from the scene, a woman's scream cutting through the air in just in time. When the police arrived, there was no evidence of who attacked the Russian except the high-tech arrow in his neck.

Since then, every time Natasha or Clint were in danger or faced a situation questioning their own morals, the sound of a horn would sing like a moment of intuition, and something within would awaken, or break free. The two couldn't explain it, even, after years of working together in SHIELD, when they spoke of it to each other. When they mentioned it to Phil, and then, much later to Fury, they couldn't provide a reason as to why, but it allowed Natasha and Clint to work together and understand each other better than any other pairing could. They accepted this fact, growing closer and closer together, knowing each other better than siblings, sensitive to each other more than lovers, two halves of a whole.

They never met the owner of the horn.

Until the Avengers Initiative.

–––

**A/N: Yay, Black Widow and Hawkeye! I grouped them together in the same chapter, because I get the feeling you can't mention one without the other. So, Susan doesn't appear to them physically or through memories/dreams like Peter does to Steve, but her horn, which is to be used in emergencies as a sign of help, now sounds when Clint or Natasha need help in their life. Yes, I intend to have a final chapter where the protected meet their protector–please be patient!**

**P.S. I didn't know of the dates in the Chronicles of Narnia concerning the Pevensies and of the dates in Captain America: The First Avenger, so I apologise if Peter hadn't even entered Narnia when Steve was still a skinny guy from Brooklyn! /**

Next: Edmund–Tony/Ironman


	3. Edmund & Tony

Edmund–Tony/Ironman

Method: Talking/Moral Support

–––

"Have you tried Ruthenium?"

Tony Stark's knee jerked in surprise, slamming painfully into his desk, and he cried out in pain and surprise. The black-haired genius spun and glared at his right. The dark-haired boy in his line of vision gave a completely innocent look, but the Brit couldn't help the small laugh escaping his lips. "I've tried every element and every combination," Tony stated. "It's a given–I'm dying." It was the boy's turn to glare. "Never give up the will to live, Tony!" the Englishman urged, concern evident in his voice.

For the past month, Tony had been haunted by a raven-haired boy who claimed to be called Edmund Pevensie and Tony's guardian angel. So maybe _haunted_ and _guardian angel_ shouldn't belong to the same sentence, but Tony definitely didn't like this random British kid appearing suddenly and sharing his opinion when guardian angels–if he really was one–were just there to guard. What's more was that "Edmund" never appeared when Tony was in a conversation with anyone or when he was in a big crowd, so no one would question the presence of a kid; the only way Tony could get even was call him a guardian angel rather than "protector" as Edmund insisted. "Guardian angel" sounded too girly, according to the boy, and that was precisely the reason Tony addressed him as such. The black-haired genius couldn't help but be grateful, though, that the boy brought the comical relief and genuine concern Tony searched for as he realized he was slowly dying.

The echo of Pepper coming down the steps to Tony's worklab reached the two males' ears. "Are you going to stay this time or vanish like you usually do?" Tony queried, replacing his reactor back in his chest before Pepper would see he obviously had a problem. "I think it's about time Ms. Potts learns of your distant cousin," Edmund gave a mischievous smile, but Tony was distracted by Pepper entering the room. He turned to face the woman as he downed a glass of chlorophyll, noting that she heard of his donating the entire modern art collection to the Boy Scouts of America.

After a good grilling from his secretary and finally handing the position of CEO over to her, Pepper noticed that they weren't alone. "Who's this?" she asked, waving at a dark-haired boy at home in Tony's lab, helping Tony's claw robot put away the glasses of wine. The boy waved back, offering a charming smile–he would be a heartbreaker when he got older. Tony coughed in his fist. "No one. Actually, he's breached my security, and therefore a threat. JARVIS, please escort Mr. Angel out," Tony met the boy's eyes and threw his thumb over his shoulder. Edmund sent a mild glare at the mention of angel, but Pepper went up to the boy and offered a hand for a handshake. "I apologize for Tony's rudeness, I'm Pepper Potts." "No worries, I know how my distant cousin can be," the claimed relative of Tony took her hand and kissed it like a gentleman. "The name is Edmund, Ms. Potts."

Pepper, startled by the action, was pulled aside by Tony. "Okay, that's enough, angel boy, that's the new CEO of Stark Industry you're flirting with." Pepper rolled her eyes and playfully slapped the genius on the shoulder. "You never told me of a distant cousin, Tony! Mr. Edmund Angel here is quite the gentleman–you can learn a little from him." As the woman left the worklab, Tony looked at Edmund in victory. "See? Even Pepper recognizes you're not a Protector, but a sweet, cute Guardian Angel–" Edmund playfully cuffed him on the ear. "I bloody well am **not** sweet or cute–you might as well be comparing me to puppies or babies!" "It seems I touched a nerve there." The two men bumped shoulders as they raced out the room, proving they were more manly than the other.

XxXx

Edmund struck at Hammer's personal body guards, the first one at the neck and the second at the knees. The two men went down, knocked unconscious with a last chop at the neck, and Edmund advanced to the Tech Control based at the back of the Stark Expo building. "…can't get a password for such an encrypted system," one of the workers' sentences drifted to Edmund's ears. "Try something Russian," the Brit offered, and the men there turned at the new voice. "Kid, you shouldn't be here," Justin Hammer, standing behind the workers, waved him away. "Neither should you," Edmund shot back, irritated to be ignored so easily because of how old he looked.

Pepper and Natasha appeared, quickly getting the location of Vanko out of Hammer and getting him arrested by the police. "Thanks for getting here soon, Edmund," Pepper addressed Tony's "distant cousin," but before Natasha could get a proper look at him, the boy was gone.

After the crisis was taken care of, Tony relaxed in his bedroom, tracing circles on his ark reactor glowing with a new element. "I'm sorry for not being there," someone spoke softly, and Tony turned to his window to see the silhouette of a boy. "So much for guardian angel," the genius muttered, recalling Vanko's attacks, "and where were you when I was kidnapped in Afghanistan? Or when Obidiah nearly killed me?" Edmund sighed, bowing his head. "Protecting someone else." Tony got up in his bed, resting on his elbows. At the obvious confusion, Edmund explained further. "You're not the only person I'm guarding, Tony." Silence. "Who's the other?" Edmund looked at Tony with a small smile. "You'll meet him soon enough." The boy took out something form his pocket, revealing to be holding a golden ring. He slipped it on, and in the blink of an eye, he was gone.

A few months later, Tony met a Dr. Bruce Banner.

–––

**A/N: This is based off the Iron Man 2 movie, so I apologize if some readers hadn't seen the second movie. ;-_- On another note, it looks like we get an explanation as to how Edmund communicates with those he protects! Hopefully the method notes in the beginning of the chapter (Method: meeting/moral support) didn't sound corny! ;^_^/**

Next: Edmund–Bruce/Hulk


	4. Edmund & Bruce

Edmund–Bruce/Hulk

Method: Talking/Negotiating

–––

Bruce Banner found reality to warp back in again, as it always did whenever he'd return from being the Hulk. He surveyed his surroundings, taking note the Abomination was down and the city's infrastructure had payed a heavy price for it. The wail of sirens and distant shout of soldiers made the scientist sigh, resting his face in his hands.

"Bruce, I don't think you have time to rest before the Army gets here." At first, Bruce thought he was hearing his thoughts again, but then, they never had a British accent and never sounded like it was coming from in front of him. The brown-black-haired man looked up to see a boy already pushing the debris away so that the two people could have an easier time moving around. "Sorry, do I know you?" Bruce asked, torn between sending the kid away before he got hurt or staying frozen at the surprise the boy addressed him with such casualty. The boy met Bruce's eyes. "Actually, you do."

_Getting a job in Brazil, talking to his employer—"You're not the first white guy to get a job here, amigo,"—which Bruce, in the back of his mind, wonders why he's not the first caucasian to work in a nameless bottling company with such low pay…Culver University, when Blonsky led an assault with the army to capture Bruce, the Hulk catches sight of a boy checking on a knocked out Betty before the green guy takes on the enhanced Blonsky…again, this time as he jumped out of the helicopter containing General Ross and Betty, a dark-haired young man standing on the rooftop of a nearby apartment, watching Bruce transform into the Hulk as he's falling…_

"You've been watching me?" Bruce asked, not knowing how to react. "Protecting you, making sure you don't face anything life-threatening," the boy interjected. "Being hunted by the army isn't life-threatening?" Bruce retorted, feeling his anger swell up at the declaration. "Allowing your loved ones getting hurt is life-threatening, because no matter how fast the bullet or how strong the cannon, it's the personal things that strike the hardest. If the Other Guy doesn't take over and wreck havoc in response to losing someone you love, heartbreak and guilt would eat you alive, Bruce, and you're not living if there's nothing to live for." The boy got up, wiping his dusty hands on his school pants. "Anything that allows you to lose the will to live is life-threatening," he stated.

Bruce was silent, knowing what he meant. The Hulk seemed to be indestructible, but Bruce wouldn't be able to live with himself if innocent people like Betty or General Ross died because of him. Recalling the beginning of their meeting, Bruce said to the boy, "What do you mean by protecting? Who do you work for?" The Englishman smiled. "I'm your Protector—or, as a recent new friend of mine likes to put it, your 'guardian angel,'" he explained. The dark-haired scientist raised a brow in disbelief. "Great, both of the people I protect don't easily believe at first," said guardian angel muttered to himself. "You know, I had to keep popping up in my other charge's presence until he started believing me. Poor sod looked like he nearly got a heart attack each time before getting used to it."

Bruce felt like laughing, finding it easy to be in the Englishman's comforting presence. The sudden explosion of a tank cannon immediately cut off any humour, bringing back the grave atmosphere. "That sounds like the Army," the scientist stated. "Um, Guardian Angel…" "Edmund," the boy cut in, "Ed for short. Anything but Guardian Angel, please, it sounds too girly." Bruce paused. "Right…I suggest you leave now or something; I have to run before they find me." "I will talk to them." "These guys aren't going to listen, Ed," Bruce's voice was thick with emotion in his experience with the government. Edmund places his hands on the scientist's shoulders, his palms warm and comforting. "Sometimes battles are fought best with words," the Brit calmly stated.

While Bruce's stiff posture relaxed a fraction; he could not stop the hot feeling in his stomach at the injustice of his situation. "Although, I can't help but acknowledge they won't stay still," Edmund agreed. "I will buy you time to escape." The boy stood up, an air of justice around him, bringing the man before him feel that somehow, things were going to be alright. Understanding that this was the last they'd see each other for a long time, Bruce nodded and got up as well. When the scientist looked back, his dark-haired friend was gone.

XxXx

Thaddeus Ross shouted orders at his men, already preparing to hunt the Hulk down as Lieutenant General of the Army. It was a flurry of soldiers and commands as they raced to get tanks and anything that could possibly put down the Hulk into position, all the while hollering orders and updates at each other. General Ross felt his brain was going to explode from the number of things asked of him at the same time, when–

"Sir."

The greying man sharply turned to his left, silently irritated at the British accent that butt in at a terrible time. The voice was startlingly young to be heard deep in military affairs, and the Lt. General was met with the sight of a handsome man, easily in his early twenties. The Englishman was smartly dressed in a black suit and tie, his dark, raven locks swept to the side. Instead of the stiff atmosphere government officials usually brought, this man had a charming presence.

"Who might you be?" General Ross huffed as he nodded at a soldier in affirming the command to move Squad B to the East main entrance of Harlem. "Edmund Pevensie, sir," the man replied respectfully, "an Ambassador." General Ross shook his head. "I don't have time for this, Ambassador, I'm in the middle of dealing with the mess down in Harlem right now." "Perhaps you'd like to call off the attack on the Hulk, sir." General Ross couldn't hep the tightening of his jaw. "Perhaps you'd like to sit down somewhere until this crisis is averted; before then, I can't talk to you, young man."

The claimed ambassador let his head hang with a small chuckle, before bringing it back up again. "Like any good man, you want to rid of the monsters you've created," his accent flowed to General Ross's ears, remaining in his attention, "But Bruce Banner isn't a monster." The Lt. General looked at the Pevensie sharply. "The Hulk just wrecked havoc in Harlem; he is a monster and I shall treat him as such!" "He saved the city from the product of wrong ambition and radiation-induced mutation–namely, the Abomination." When the older of the two opened his mouth, the Englishman stopped him with a, "General." The military man properly faced him and crossed his arms patiently. "Within the Hulk is a man afraid of harming people and will isolate himself as much as possible if he had to–a man who your daughter once fell in love with."

A soldier called General Ross over, and the man nodded that he'd be right there. Turning to dismiss the ambassador on the fact that duty calls, the young man understood. "Just think about it, sir," the dark-haired male said. General Ross started towards the soldier who called him, before abruptly stopping. …The ambassador never mentioned who he was representing. When the Lt. General turned around, the young man wasn't there.

"General! The Hulk has disappeared!" At the soldier's announcement, the greying man stood silent for a moment. It was as if the claimed ambassador spoke simply to buy time for Banner to escape…. "General?" The man looked at who addressed him. "Call back Squad B. Assist damage control, and get help for the injured and trapped civilians." The soldier did as he told, before turning back to his superior. "What of the Hulk, sir?"

_"Within the Hulk is a man afraid of harming people and will isolate himself as much as possible if he had to–a man who your daughter once fell in love with."_

"We'll send a search team after him later; first, there's a damaged city waiting to be repaired."

–––

**A/N: I hardly remember the Hulk movie and mostly got the plot line from the Marvel wikipedia, but hopefully the chapter still flows despite the lack of seeing the movie recently! I typed the last half first and then added the first half after, planning to make this chapter longer, but the school year's starting, and I simply didn't have the time. Apologies to readers if the two halves didn't meld smoothly! ;-_-**

Next: Lucy–Thor


	5. Lucy & Thor

Lucy—Thor

Method: Directing/Talking

—

The moment Thor woke up in the strange white room, he panicked. The prince ripped off the strange devices stuck on him, pushing aside the mortals in white coats as he tried to find a way out and speak with someone responsible in the realm. A group of men with badges burst in the room, some raising what could only be a weapon as others tried physically subduing the blonde, but it only made him angry. Thor flung the humans off him, sending their weapons across the room as he advanced to the door, wishing they'd stop getting in his way. The prince couldn't think—his father banished him just hours ago, Mjolnir nowhere to be found, and he was stuck in another realm without his powers. Something red flashed in the corner of his eye, the prince turning to look at it fully in rage if another kind of attacker dare face him.

It was a young maiden. She wore a dress of fine material, red outlined with gold, and some of her auburn locks were carefully braided back. Standing at the back of the room, out of sight and therefore mind of the humans present, she didn't smile, but her aura might as well have smiled for her, and her lips twitched at his being frozen in awe. There was a natural beauty about her, just as one would admire the vast ocean or the simple song of chirping animals; all in all, she could have been royalty, or perhaps she was? Clear blue eyes twinkled as she gazed upon him like a friend, bringing Thor to wonder in the back of his mind if he had done something to earn the friendship of this young girl. Thor followed her gaze as she turned away from him to look at something in the distance, but before he could see, something pricked his skin like a needle, and he passed out.

XxXx

This time, the prince was strapped to the bed. Luckily, the room was empty, so when the blonde broke free of his restraints and slipped out the hospital, no one stopped him. Just as he was walking down the parking lot, the red-haired girl appeared again, meeting his eyes. A grin sprung up in her lips, childish dimples present, and the young maiden looked on the verge of laughing. Confused but amused all the same, Thor watched her raise and point a finger somewhere past him as he walked, when something slammed into his back. Thor dazedly got up, searching for the girl again, but she was long gone. A brunette came into his vision instead, concern and guilt written on her pretty face as she left the vehicle.

"I swear I'm not doing this on purpose!"

And that was how he officially met Jane Foster.

XxXx

"Blake, my boy! Hope you've sobered up by now, eh?" Dr. Selvig smiled and opened his arms in welcome as the SHIELD organisation released Thor. The blonde gratefully slipped a smile to the man, before spotting a red-head beside the professor, and his expression leaned towards confusion, but he was still thankful all the same. As the trio traveled to a bar, something the girl insisted she didn't mind going to, the Asgardian voiced his questions. "Who is this young maiden?" Dr. Selvig spared a glance as he focused on the road. "Claimed she was a friend of yours," the professor replied, and the girl smiled. Thor stared at her for a while, still hurt from news of his dead father and his banishment, and he wondered if she was a Jotun in disguise, before a gut feeling told him otherwise. "She is." And Selvig didn't question him after that.

She introduced herself as Queen Lucy the Valiant, Lady of the Eastern Sea, and a friend of Aslan the Lion. It didn't mean anything to Selvig except she was another "loony" like Thor, but the prince regarded the way she held herself, the gown she wore the times he saw her before she appeared that day in simple school clothes, and the wisdom in her eyes that preceded her outward age. When Selvig passed out after a drinking contest with Thor and a small bar brawl that led to their getting kicked out, Thor questioned the monarch as he carried the professor over his shoulder. "It is rare for a queen to be of young age. Even rarer for a monarch to busy herself with a realm not of her own." Lucy didn't appear deterred by the statement. "Once a king and queen always a king and queen," she spoke just above a whisper, the words singing in Thor's ears. Something else was missing, though, something vital to the saying, but Lucy's ocean blue eyes revealed nothing.

XxXx

Lucy wasn't there when Thor brought Selvig out of the car. Indeed, the young monarch seemed to have vanished for she didn't appear again the following morning, but Thor was fascinated and inspired by Jane Foster, by her love for science and her big heart, and he woke up feeling better the next day, for once not minding his mortality at all. Thor fell in love with Midgard–_Earth_, as humans called it–and he fell in love with Jane, and it was for those reasons he immediately felt protectiveness when the Destroyer came and defeated Sif and the Warriors Three so easily.

"_They were actions not of a king, but of a warrior!" "Once a king and queen always a king and queen."_ Odin and Lucy's words floated back in Thor's mind, and the Asgardian finally saw the meaning behind their statements. The responsibility of king wasn't something to be taken lightly, and that Thor had acted foolish and without thought now shamed him in realisation of what he had done.

"Thor, what are you doing!" Sif yelled at him when the prince stepped forward, and the blonde only smiled. "Don't worry, I have a plan." Because a king shouldn't let others get hurt for something he deserved.

XxXx

"You'll be a wise king." The view of the kingdom was beautiful. "There will never be a wiser king than you," Thor spoke, turning to Odin, "or a better father." Odin continued to gaze before him, silent. Thor continued. "I have much to learn—I know that now. Someday, perhaps, I shall make you proud." Odin faced his son, obviously pleased. "You've already made me proud." He placed a hand on the prince's shoulder and gave a squeeze, to which the blonde smiled.

Thor turned to leave his father the scene of the kingdom to enjoy, and red sprung up in his vision. Standing at the end of the hall was her, the queen of bravery and friend of a lion, and she shared her own, unique grin that reflected childish joy at the air of celebration that had spread throughout Asgard. "Queen Lucy, my friend," Thor greeted when he reached the end of the hallway. "Proper titles aren't needed, dear friend, just call me Lucy." The Asgardian chuckled in agreement. "I'd like to ask," Thor began, "why you pointed out things to me without speech in the beginning." "Words weren't needed," she replied simply. "Ms. Jane Foster is one hard to describe in words, is she not?" Thor paused in thought. "You were pointing me towards her?" "Because you needed her," Lucy explained, "because she is of science and magic, of logic and faith, and you needed to see the responsibilities of a king." She looked past Thor to the lion carvings that ran along the wall just beneath the ceiling, and something within her obviously stirred, for she met Thor's eyes again quickly and with an inner flame. "A king can't lead without the right heart. Magnificence, gentleness, justness, and valour–such are important characteristics."

He accepted her genuine concern for him, along with the valuable lessons she taught, and he stood amazed this girl–who held the fire of a warrior Thor easily recognised, for he had one himself–could still believe in wisdom in patience and grace in actions. She was a queen, of course, but the position suddenly seemed so far away yet glorious, and the thought only served to make Thor want it more and wish to earn it. The Asgardian bid Lucy goodbye when she announced she'd take her leave, and the prince was still smiling even when the girl had already vanished after putting on a ring of gold.

It is important, to act more like a king than a warrior. There are times, however, when a warrior is needed, and it was in such a time Thor encountered his royal friend again.

And he saw just why she was called the Valiant.

—

**A/N: I am literally making things up as I post chapters. ;-_- Hopefully I won't disappoint anyone with the ending! *Sigh* I know this was a pretty long one, but I found that the relationship between Lucy and Thor was quite different and complicated compared to Peter's distant yet close bond, Susan's vague but familiar bond, and Edmund's straightforward and present bond. I also hurt my head trying to have a "formal" hint in this chapter, but so far it looks legible and the story still flows.**

Next–Pevensies/Avengers


	6. Pevensies & Avengers

Pevensies—Avengers

They meet.

—

"They won't get along." A pause, before reluctant acceptance. "No, they won't." The Pevensie siblings gazed at each other from their spots in the Wood Between Worlds, the three oldest surrounding the pool that led to Earth and the youngest at the pool near it, leading to Asgard. If the siblings stared into the pools long enough, they could see the cities and buildings of the realm, and, if they focused even more, could see the inhabitants strolling the streets or talking to one another. Edmund was fingering a green ring.

"If you keep doing that I'll blame you for suddenly disappearing to another world," Peter chided, but his brother didn't pay him mind. "With Aslan's blessing, we won't be teleported anywhere without wearing the rings properly," Edmund countered, but there was no real heat behind his words. Susan sighed. "Enough, you two, we're just all stressed with the upcoming trial our charges are about to face." "They're not going to get along, though," Edmund repeated his first statement, "not without…." An uncomfortable silence. "I think it's our time to properly protect our charges," Lucy spoke up, and there was an air of agreement. "A life shouldn't have to be sacrificed," Peter agreed. Susan was still sceptical.

"We were told not to directly interfere with their lives," she pointed out, a beautiful horn in her lap. The gentle queen didn't use her gift to help her charges, though, but instead brought out memories and thoughts, imagined they were cradled in her hands, and blew them into the pool where Clint and Natasha would be. Peter did similarly, rested his hands and forehead on the hilt of Rhindon before sending memories of his own to Steve; sometimes he'd meet the captain himself with the rings, but Peter wasn't one use such magic as freely as his two youngest siblings did.

"We all felt it, though," Lucy stated, "the wave of the future meeting us in emotions and vague thoughts. Someone close to them is going to die before they properly work as a team, and it could be any one of our charges whose life will be sacrificed." Susan hesitated, before nodding in agreement. "How are we to help, then?" she asked. The three of them turned to the oldest in unison; they were monarchs of great wisdom and understanding, but it was always the High king who would lead. Peter was silent.

"I think it's time SHIELD got four new volunteers."

XxXx

"We have volunteers."

The group of superheroes turned to Fury in confusion and inward bewilderment. Who would willingly work with a bunch of dysfunctionals just as a a mischievous immortal stole a source of great power with the intent to take over Earth? The "Avengers" certainly had a feeling their oddball group was going to get larger. "The one who confronted me," Fury continued, "was a Queen Lucy the Valiant, Lady of the Eastern Sea." "And a friend of Aslan the Lion," Thor added, as if SHIELD's director forgot something important in the title. Fury turned to the Asgardian with a raised brow. "You know this queen?" Thor paused, realising he drew the attention of the entire table. "A friend," he said simply, as if that explained everything. Perhaps it did.

Fury continued. "She and her three siblings realised Earth was in great danger and wanted to help. The queen claims all of them to be skilled warriors, and Her Highness said she has a means of healing even the gravest of wounds quickly, so they'll be working with us." Working with us meaning the volunteers didn't want to be part of the Avengers Initiative and instead act as "allies." Figures. "They'll be here any moment now," Fury informed them, and just in time, the doors of the helicarrier that led to the control room the group was presently in opened. Steve gaped, Tony choked on air, Bruce's brows raised, Thor blinked in confusion, and Natasha's eyes immediately landed on the horn one of the new faces was carrying.

The Avengers had just met their "Guardian Angels."

—

**A/N: I know, I'm evil, aren't I? Don't worry, more chapters will come, and I'm sorry his one was quite short, but like I said, I'm making this up as I go along, and imagination has been escaping me lately. I'm thankful for the positive responses, though! ;D**

Next—Protectors/Charges


	7. Protectors & Charges

Protectors–Charges

They get along.

–––

Edmund was older. Surprisingly much older. Well, he wasn't an old man—certainly not, what with the sharp features and charming smile that would make women blush—but it came as a surprise to Tony when his Protector walked in looking like a nineteen year old. Bruce was less taken aback, having guessed impossible things were made possible with "guardian angels," but the seemingly careless and cunning air that Edmund gave off was new, for the handful of times Bruce met Ed up close, the Englishman seemed more to be a responsible, almost soldier-like, boy.

Peter definitely fit that description more than Edmund did. Steve could finally talk to his protector in the flesh without having to experience a memory before, but the few times the captain met him, Peter's age ranged from thirteen to sixteen years—never the twenty-two year old man before him. Gone were the childish bouts Steve witnessed in "flashbacks"—where a young blonde yearned for a kingdom he was forcibly pulled out from—and instead stood a polished leader and warrior with a big heart.

Lucy was seventeen. At least, Thor had to guess at that, because time was an unusual thing, and he was still aware of the years in her eyes that conflicted with the age of her body. The only thing the Asgardian could be certain about was that his friend was the youngest of the group. Her hair was longer, more of the auburn seen in deer pelts than the fiery red he saw her when she was a girl, and the natural beauty was still there, as obvious as it was the first time he saw her.

Natasha thought the oldest girl of the group had a beautiful horn, carved from an ivory that seemed to glow, but the owner definitely surpassed it—and everyone the SHIELD agent had ever met, for that matter—in beauty. Susan was her name, meaning lily, and the dark-brunette young woman certainly appeared to have bloomed as breathtaking as the flower. Her hair was wavy and healthy, her features comparable to that of a fairy or a princess, and in the end, she simply embodied the image of the ideal woman: strong, elegant, and respectable. A gentleness shadowed every movement, every thought, and the sound of the horn surfaced in Natasha's thoughts. Just as the note was sweet, Susan was pretty; just as the horn sounded smoothly, Susan moved elegantly. Natasha would later find that the brunette's heart was as beautiful as the sound of the horn, and that Susan was of pleasant company.

"Lucy, my friend," Thor spoke first as the four entered the room, "my you've grown." "Not at all," she smiled, and everyone noticed her choice of words. "Angel boy?" Tony sputtered, "Siblings?" The black-haired newcomer smirked suavely. "I see you haven't matured much, Tony. Think I'm so cute now?" The billionaire naturally glared, but Steve was still shocked with the appearance of the four to think anything of the conversations. He could imagine it—the dark-haired boy as the knight, the two young women as the girls from flashbacks not of his own—Peter smiled at him, and Steve realised someone had been watching over him. Bruce and Natasha wisely kept silent when Fury saw that the Avengers knew the volunteers, but their confusion and interest was obvious.

"How are you familiar with each other?" the one-eyed man asked just in time. Tony hesitated, aware the "distant cousin" excuse wouldn't work now that this Queen Lucy claimed Edmund as her brother. "We're their guardian angels," the red-haired girl answered for everyone, and her youngest brother sighed in defeat at the title. "Guardian angels?" Fury asked, unconvinced. "'Protectors' works too," Edmund tried, and Tony smothered an amused scoff. "But you're also royalty," Fury confirmed, and the four nodded. "Once a king and queen of Narnia," Lucy began. "Always a king and queen of Narnia," Peter finished. "I see," Fury said, but just what he saw he didn't specify.

After that meeting, the SHIELD director instructed Agent Hill to find what she could about "Narnia."

XxXx

In the training salles of the helicarrier, Natasha chanced upon the brunette of the new group shooting at targets. Every time, she shot a bullseye—but not with bullets. The young woman wore a cross between a jockey and an archer outfit mainly styled blue; a traditional outfit easily fitting in with medieval costumes, designed for quick movement, but on the woman, it didn't seem out of place of times. Strapped on her back was a well-crafted quiver where red fletchings sprouted like frozen fire; the horn hung on her hip.

The woman rose her arms. "Your sister's a queen?" The arrow sailed a little off from the dead centre, but it was still a bullseye. "She is," the brunette turned to Natasha. A few could still aim true when the Black Widow suddenly pops up on them, and one was probably with Captain America talking about trading cards while the other was somewhere else, taken by Loki. This woman reminded Natasha too much of Clint. "So who are you?" Natasha blurted out before she could stop herself. Despite her rudeness, the brunette smiled. "Queen Susan of the Horn." "Then…" Natasha inwardly swallowed, "are you…." Susan laughed. "My siblings and I are monarchs, Natasha. Not married." Only Clint and Phil addressed her by her first name. "The system in Narnia is…uncommon," the brunette said. Natasha's mind chose that moment to remember a hawk in the snowy forest, a saviour free-falling, and a graceful note. The red-haired Russian decided, or perhaps her heart did, that she liked Susan. "Tell me about Narnia."

XxXx

"Your this brat's other charge?" Tony asked the moment he, Bruce, and Edmund were alone in the SHEILD-provided lab. Bruce nodded. "I believe you're the one who calls Ed 'guardian angel.'" "I thought the two of you are trying to locate the Tesseract," the subject of conversation huffed. "We can multitask, angel boy; don't you know we're geniuses?" Tony proudly asked as he went to work on the lab tech. Bruce just chuckled. "Although, I didn't know your sister was a queen," the Hulk's human side said. "You didn't know I even had a sister," Edmund pointed out, and Bruce shrugged. "Well…it's only fair the two of you know about me." The scientists perked up at the chance of learning more of their protector. Noticing this, Edmund rose a brow. "But I'll only tell after you've finished your work." Tony "aww-ed" as Bruce just shook his head in amusement and started his task.

XxXx

Steve inwardly gulped. His protector, while shorter than Steve by at least two inches, seemed to tower over him in presence. This was a king—a High king, as his memory serves—and this man had fought battles and led a kingdom and had gone to college…. Perhaps it wasn't necessarily in that order, but it was a fact that this Peter was a true soldier, a knight.

Said blonde noticed his charge's awkwardness and smiled comfortingly at him. "I'm no more a soldier than you, Captain." Steve shifted. "Am I that obvious?" Peter gave an amused laugh. "No, you just remind me of myself." Steve smiled. Maybe it wouldn't be hard befriending his guardian.

XxXx

"…Ms. Jane Foster is in good hands," Phil finished, to which Thor thanked him. "Concerned?" The Asgardian turned to see Lucy behind him, smiling. The blonde nodded. "I noticed that the characteristics of a monarch," the prince brought his friend's attention to their last conversation, "are only four in number." Lucy paused. "When my siblings and I were appointed kings and queens of Narnia, such qualities were part of our title." Phil turned to them, confused. "Where is Narnia, anyway?" Lucy's eyes brightened at the prospect of speaking of her country. "It has already been reborn without my siblings and I, but it waits." A sad smile flitted across her features, but she still glowed with hope. "Beyond the realities of this dimension, it waits."

"Who appointed the four of you as monarchs?" Thor asked.

Lucy's smile widened and turned happier.

XxXx

As these meetings took place, somewhere across the globe, a brown-haired archer felt his heart clench for a family he had in SHIELD—a compassionate but stern agent, a red-haired partner—and a longing pulled his gaze to a distance, as if looking in the direction they awaited for him.

"Is something wrong, Agent Barton?" Loki asked.

And something flickered in his memory, escaping his focus like a ghost yet increasingly familiar. It was like when he'd brush his teeth only to realise he had done so already, or when travel in the air ducts only to realise he had already made that turn. A note, an urge to leap off buildings and fly, warmed his heart, before teasingly slipping through his fingers when he'd try to see more of it. It was enough, though. It was enough.

"Agent Barton?" Loki asked again, more sternly. Clint turned to him. "I just need a distraction," his mind-controlled minion side spoke for him, "and an eyeball." With the flick of his wrist, the collapsible bow sprung up to life, and the sentimental side of the memories he possessed grew more defined, chipping off the icy hold the immortal had on him bit by bit. No more robotic actions, no more working for the bad guys—he was starting to remember who he was.

—

**A/N: We get to have a moment with Clint despite his being mind-controlled; Susan's last act preserved a part of him that differentiates him from human being and robotic minion! I apologise for the slow updates—school is starting soon. D: Oh well, all good things come to an end. And then be reborn from their ashes, but that will come the next summer break. ;P**

Next—SHIELD/Loki


	8. Of Similar Paths

Chapter 7.5 — Of Similar Paths

—

Loki turned away from where the Black Widow left the room when he took half a step back in shock of another's presence. Edmund didn't appear fazed by the Laufeyson's surprise and simply waited a beat allowing for recovery before he started speaking.

"Fury thinks you're the only one who wants to be here." Loki blinked. "Then he chose the wrong occupation." A giggle threatened to spill forth Edmund's lips at that. Shaking his head, the dark-haired Englishman went to business. "Maybe it's you who chose the wrong path." "Maybe you should leave," Loki's lips thinned before speaking. There was a tense silence. Edmund sighed. "Loki, why are you here?" Before the Asgardian could reply, the young king changed his mind. "No—why did you choose to be here, and not with your brother?" Oh. He meant that.

Loki could feel a growl forming under his breath. "Who are you to lecture me on familial issues?" "Not familial issues," Edmund disagreed, "issues of guilt, of…" Betrayal. Somehow, without even knowing who was talking to him, Loki sensed how the dark-haired young man couldn't follow through in his sentence. This Englishman didn't come there to try getting information out of the Asgardian; he wanted to talk about the basis of Loki's actions, about why he did what he did. It was too personal, too close for comfort for Loki to talk about.

"I don't have _issues_," the taller immortal bit out, "I am not as weak as you humans are." "But you feel guilt," Edmund pointed out the hole in the other's statement. At the clenched-jaw silence, the young monarch understood that Loki was going through something Edmund could only relate. "There is always forgiveness," the Englishman finally said, to which Loki's irritation only increased. "That's easy to say when speaking into the cage rather than from it," the Laufeyson said stiffly. "I speak from the heart," Edmund said in a soothing voice. The young man hesitated, as if realising there was so much more he wanted to say, but not enough words to say it. A calmness settled in his shoulders, and instead he simply opened his mouth and spoke. "This isn't caging you, Loki," he gestured at the glass entrapment, before releasing a feather-light sigh. "Something else is."

Maybe, for just a moment, the Asgardian thought this young monarch saw the guilt and terror crushing his heart, the kind of darkness that was in every corner and haunted the Laufeyson in every dream, forcing him to relive personal horrors and imagine new ones. The immortal nearly jumped when he thought he heard the low breath of a Chitauri, springing him to act defiantly towards everything this human and the "Avengers" team did, and it wasn't until Edmund had left the room in silent surrender to the stoney-faced Asgardian did Loki realise the Chitauri were nowhere near there.

_"You think you know pain? We can show you something…sweeter." _

But they didn't have to physically be there for Loki to be haunted by them.

—

**A/N: I know this chapter is short, but it is more of a filler than really part of the story plot, born from my lack of true time and imagination to post a chapter but awareness of adoring, awesome followers reading this story. XD I don't exactly remember how the Chitauri quote went, but hopefully it's right! The next "real" chapter is still **SHIELD/Loki**!  
LOL sorry about slow update - school started and I can't really type up chapters that fast! Sorry! T_T  
**


	9. SHIELD & Loki

SHIELD–Loki

Attack on the helicarrier.

–––

Everything was a disaster. At least, that was what Peter thought, as his jaw was locked in frustration and unable to even speak in the argument occurring before him. The Avengers were fighting, Tony's witty comments testing Steve's patience, Natasha's defending SHIELD allowing the others to find holes in the organisation's system, Bruce getting angry, and Thor generally laughing at everything. Peter had not a clue how to calm down people of a different background as his and weren't his family; Susan saw logic in Natasha's words and attempted to make everyone listen, which did no good; Lucy looked distress at the disharmony between everyone, making Peter feel worse in not being able to pacify the situation, and….

Where in the _bloody flying death-trap_ was Edmund?

Peter sensed something change in his brother when Lucy explained to them what happened between Thor and Loki, and his inner alarms tipped him off that it was most likely his brother was going to do something insanely stupid and so _Edmund-like_ in attempt to change the traitorous Loki. Not one to ignore such warnings–as he had one for each of his siblings and it had served to prevent them jumping into ridiculous situations–Peter kept an eye on his brother, but now, of all times for the Avengers group to argue, the independent rascal up and went off somewhere.

_**BOOM!**_

The enemy just had to attack now, didn't they?

XxXx

Lucy rushed out the room to face the intruders, more brain-washed minions of Loki, and slipped out a few daggers from the pouch strapped on the back of her waist before accurately throwing them so that her enemies were pinned on the floor or against the wall. When they came close enough, the young queen became a fury of red, knocking out anyone in her path and taking down others with her knives. Thor couldn't help being amazed when he witnessed her fight as he did his part knocking down several opponents, and the pair's battle moved to the hangar deck.

As with Peter, he pulled Susan away when he sensed the floor collapse, but Natasha and Bruce had fallen to the lower level, and there was no safe way to retrieve them without testing the unbalanced and unsupported ground. That was about the same time Edmund barged into the room and fell into the gap, to which Peter felt like hitting his head against the wall, but Lucy and Thor's moving to action spurred Peter to do the same, and the two siblings joined Fury to the director's post at the bridge as Tony and Steve left to revive Engine One.

At the bridge, Peter knocked Fury down as Agent Hill did the same to a woman next to her right before an explosive went off. Susan was fine, having heard the roll of the explosive used coming in before she warned Hill about it, and she spotted the angle of the arrow that tampered with Engine One, before notching an arrow and searching for her target. Peter moved out of the way when Fury and Hill defended the agents working the helicarrier against the agents controlled under Loki at the bridge doorway, and as skilled as the blonde was with the sword and shield, bullets were frankly out of his league. Leading, however, wasn't foreign to him, and when a technician had trouble manning the aircraft with an engine down and several areas destroyed, Peter moved over to him and gave advice, such as putting the rising sun on the left side as reference for cardinal directions.

XxXx

Clint gritted his teeth, resolutely attempting to ignore the pain like ice going down his veins in response to his one act of defiance. Forcing down a button combination on his bow, an arrow armed itself with a computer scrambler instead of the explosive tip his controlled body itched for, and the archer notched and released his arrow. The helicarrier's Engine 2 shut off, and the floor started tilting not a beat later. Just as Clint's body readied itself for a third engine to shut down, an arrow sprouted behind him, missing his shoulder by fractions. The brunette inwardly frowned. Mind-controlled or not, how could someone find an elite agent of SHIELD's like him so quickly?

Looking up, he met the gaze of a dark-haired woman in a type of traditional archery wear, though Clint couldn't place its origins. Spanish? Celtic? He didn't have time to think too much of it when she was got ready for another warning shot, and he moved to leave his hiding spot. Something white flashed in the corner of his eye, and he just caught the glimpse of a horn before he felt himself double over, his skull splitting in pain of two forces fighting over his mind. It could have been five minutes or simply five seconds, but in the end, Clint got up and stumbled to the location Loki wanted him to be. For the first time in years, he prayed. He didn't want to lose the agents he fought and nearly died for, he didn't want to lose Natasha, he didn't want to lose Phil, and he certainly didn't want to be the reason to have lost them. A peace suddenly settled in his core, brighter and stronger than even the note of the horn, and faintly, as if from somewhere far away yet in army's reach, the roar of a lion sounded. It could have been his imagination, but Clint was positive he had heard it, and the archer couldn't help the smile lifting his lips.

Not a moment later, Natasha confronted him and knocked him out.

And Clint couldn't have chosen a better friend.

XxXx

Edmund quickened his pace when he heard the alarms go off. Perhaps he spoke with Loki too long, but when he burst into the room he last knew the Avengers were, he felt himself go through air and instead roughly land on some metal beams. He let out a groan before he adjusted his position, feeling his leg flare in pain; he then saw Natasha pinned under the weight of a beam, and sensed the Other Guy coming out as a defensive reflex from Bruce's fall that had injured the doctor. Edmund scrambled to help Natasha as Bruce started "Hulking" out, the red-haired Russian speaking soothing words to Bruce as Edmund worked through the clouding pain, and the king inwardly hoped he hadn't broken his leg through an act of stupidity.

Natasha eventually got released, but her and Edmund were forced to run when the Hulk came out and attacked them, as they were the first and only people at sight. Natasha ducked, dodged, and attacked as she usually did professionally, but the woman was obviously shaken by the monster chasing her. Edmund unsheathed both his swords and moved to defend Natasha; the dark-haired male showing a flexibility and experience of a skilled swordsman, but even the metal did nothing to the Hulk. The king didn't know if he should have felt relieved or irritated that his charge wasn't getting hurt and that his special swords weren't bending or getting crushed by the Hulk's tough skin, but that his swordsmanship might as well have equalled to hitting his opponent with hammers that just as easily bounced off.

When the Hulk finally broke through and sent Natasha and Edmund flying before slamming against the wall, the young monarch checked on his sister's charge. The Black Widow was curled up, unhurt sans for the pain from hitting a wall that would eventually go away, but she appeared dazed at the strength she had just personally witnessed, and Edmund decided to let her be; Natasha was strong, and she would recover soon enough. The Pevensie tested his leg, assured he must have sprained a muscle and ankle but not broken anything, and recalled his earlier thoughts. Perhaps Thor would battle better with the Hulk?

**_"Barton's at Level 3, does anyone copy?"_**

Natasha took a deep breath, bringing her nerves to settle, and she confirmed she would handle her partner. Edmund nodded to her as she moved to Level 3, the Hulk elsewhere, though, by update Lucy just sounded over the bluetooth, the "green rage monster" as Tony dubbed was ironically enough fighting Thor. Knowing Loki was of major importance in the surprise attack by his mind-controlled minions, Edmund forced himself to get up and head to the cage room the immortal was held in.

–––

**A/N: As I hopefully put it across as, the events after the first section in Peter's point of view occur in different times. As some may have guessed, updates will most likely come weekly, so don't give up on me! ;) I did my best giving equal focus on the characters, but as there are many, it may have been uneven. Apologies if anyone feels a character was insulted XP The **SHIELD–Loki** label was meant as a title where the agents under Loki's control are really just Loki's temporary army, so it's really just SHIELD (and the Avengers) fighting Loki.**

Next: Phil–Avengers


	10. Phil & the Avengers

Phil–Avengers

The agent who...

–––

Edmund ran in just in time to witness Loki facing the button that would drop Thor into the sky. Phil was already ahead of the young king, the biggest gun Edmund has ever seen carried in the agent's arms and aimed at the immortal before him, stopping Loki from making any more movements. "Not even I know what it does," Phil commented, and Edmund couldn't stop the chuckle leaving his lips as the latter readied his sword. "Loki," Edmund addressed, "you don't want to do that." The Asgardian gave his trademark cross between a smile and a smirk, clearly showing he didn't agree with the person before him. "Oh, I think I do."

Phil didn't know if it was a moment of intuition or because he sensed something underlying the statement he had heard from some of SHIELD's worst enemies before, but the agent spun and pulled Edmund away from him before he felt something stab through his chest and out his back. Edmund cushioned the brave man's fall, but the dark-haired male must have went weak in the knees, for he stumbled down as well and, trembling, fixed Phil into a lying position when the king recovered. Phil was faintly aware of Thor's shout in the background, and, if he focused his hearing, it sounded like "no," but the agent felt tired, and all of his energy seemed to seep out of him from the hole in his chest. Edmund's face was above his, and the dark-eyed man looked shaken by what had transpired; his fingers danced, ripping his jacket apart and tying the pieces around Phil's injury while his eyes seemed focused elsewhere.

Thor's voice had disappeared, and Phil realised Edmund froze, looking somewhere at Phil's right. "…heroes are scattered. Your floating fortress falls from the sky–where is my disadvantage?" That was Loki, and, meeting Edmund's eyes, Phil got a sense of the many things the young king wanted to say, but couldn't put in words, and suddenly he realised that Edmund had been the traitor once. Phil smiled at him, and the monarch looked startled at how easily Phil saw through him, but the agent didn't give him time to speak. "You lack conviction," Phil directed towards Loki, answering the immortal's challenge in finding a hole in his situation. The trickster must have frowned, because there was a moment of silence, before he started speaking. "I don't think I–" _**BLAM! **_Edmund blinked as Phil finally relaxed, the agent glad he got the angle right according to the direction Edmund had been facing when Loki was speaking. Phil felt his eyes drooping, and he couldn't help letting out a few more words.

"So that's what it does."

XxXx

Lucy, Edmund, and Fury were around Phil, who was unconscious on a bed in the medical bay, while Peter and Susan were keeping an eye on the Avengers still accounted for, making sure they didn't let restlessness take over them and barge into the medical bay. Lucy had come just in time to use her cordial for the stabbed agent, but the wounds were magical and severe, and even the juice of a rare Narnian flower could only do so much. "I thought Jadis's wand was magical," Lucy bit her lip as she watched over the kind-hearted agent. Edmund sighed, laying a hand on her shoulder. "She wasn't using magic when she stabbed me, Lucy. This is different." Fury was silent the entire affair, respecting the pair's privacy and recognising they trusted him enough to freely speak of their past before him.

"How long do you predict before Coulson wakes?" the director asked, raising an eye. Lucy mulled over the possibilities. "Thirteen hours, maybe, but he was stabbed with the most powerful part of the spear, so perhaps a day." "When he awakes, his chest might ache, so he better not go straight into battle or anything until the pain is completely gone," Edmund added, from personal experience, and Fury nodded in acknowledgement. Lucy watched her brother. "What did Phil say to you?" she finally queried, and the older Pevensie looked at her in confusion and surprise. "Don't give me that," the redhead insisted, "I can tell he did something that earned respect from you." Edmund paused, turning back to face Phil with a face carefully emotionless. "He saw me for who I am."

Fury chuckled. "Agent Coulson has always been one of SHIELD's best." Edmund smiled at the cyclops. "You have a good man in your hands, Director." The trio looked on Phil's still form, aware of the internal struggle for staying alive. "What do I tell them?" The taller man finally spoke with seriousness, and the two Pevensies shared a glance before giving their verdict.

XxXx

"You don't know how he is?" Steve echoed, a hint of his frustration and worry evident in his voice. Natasha disappeared to the med room Clint was in after hearing the words, unwilling to say anything in response to the news. Tony wore a similar emotionless expression Edmund's siblings recognised as one worn when deeply affected by something, and Peter and Susan gave a look at their younger siblings showing that they'd want to hear everything about Phil's condition later. Scattered Captain America cards were on the table.

Lucy, Edmund, and Fury agreed that, as the director knew Phil would have told them to do so anyway, they'd announce the truth of the agent's condition without revealing they knew he would wake up. They were honest in not knowing how Phil was, seeing as they didn't even know exactly when he'd wake up or how his body was like as two different kind of magical origins were destroying and healing him, and their solemn air in knowledge of Phil's condition was certainly genuine. Fury continued in explaining the original plan for the Avengers Initiative and his personal input in still believing it, just as Coulson has always done, and later, when Ironman had up and left and a quinjet was reported stolen by three individuals, the Pevensies and Fury knew the Avengers had finally come to be a team.

"I suppose it's time for us to join them in New York," Peter shared a smile with his siblings, and they agreed with determination in their eyes. "You won't be joining us, Director?" Susan asked, and the man shook his head. "I'm under strict orders not to assist the 'loose cannons,' as my superiors have put it," the one-eyed male explained, "and to 'contain the situation,' but I'm not doing any of that. I'll hold back the World Security Council from taking things into their own hands for as long as I can, but no promises." "We'll do our best as well," Lucy nodded, "Our Avengers won't let us down."

Fury didn't doubt it.

–––

**A/N: Phil's death scene has been changed and a peek at how Fury is as a human being is revealed (at least, I hope it seemed like that)! The "how it works" moment is something I'll never remove, though, so hope that brought out some laughs from readers! I'm actually making everything up as I go along, but there's a basic plot there, don't worry. :D Keep the comments coming–I love constructive criticism and mentions of how loveable my story is~! ;P**

**3 ❤ ****彡**

Next: Manhatten—the Chitauri


	11. Manhattan & the Chitauri

Manhatten—the Chitauri

The battle begins.

—

"So." A cough. "Yeah."

Peter and Edmund stared at the grounded contraption the Chitauri used for flying, the aliens once on it having been knocked off by loose rubble of a collapsing building and the transport brought to a crash before the Pevensie brothers. The pair had planned to use the aircraft to aid their charges in the battle for Manhatten, but as always, they faced technological challenges. "You did fine flying the quinjet to get us here," Edmund recalled, but his brother shook his head. "At least the controls were labeled in _English_," the blonde pointed out. The younger Pevensie sniffed. "Just…do what Natasha did." Peter gave him a look. "Stab a Chitauri in the back and use its dying body as a steering wheel?" he sarcastically clarified, to which Edmund rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "You fly just fine," Peter reasoned. "With gryffins," Edmund corrected, "not machinery." The High King gazed upon the controls and sighed. "I'm going to regret this."

XxXx

Steve was grateful for the help Tony provided as the two tag-teamed against the Chitauri, sometimes using his shield to deflect a blast from Ironman to take down an alien here, other times engaging in close combat and causing general mayhem there. The manpower wasn't enough, the captain realised, and there were still airborne aliens around the skies of the city. Natasha already left to check on Selvig; Clint was keeping a hand of control on the streets and skies, alerting the team of any holes in their hastily-prepared but still effective defence; Thor and the Hulk were taking down Leviathans; and Tony was already by Steve's side, fighting the best he could. Who, then, was able to help the Avengers in this time of need? _Could_ they find help at all?

Right on time, the Chitauri that had snuck up on the Captain was barrelled down by something that shot from the air nearby. Tony and Steve turned to see Peter handling an alien aircraft with a whoop and a smile of a boy having fun. From the downed Chitauri was Edmund, slowly getting up while simultaneously sliding two swords out of the dead body; his face looked a little green. "Never again," the dark-haired male hissed, "am I trusting you with technology." "I think this is one of the best ideas you've proposed yet, Ed," mentioned blonde laughed, waving away his brother's declaration. "You're 'driving' threw me off that thing!" Edmund gestured at the vehicle his sibling currently flew. The new round of attacks from the Chitauri spurred the heroes into action once again, the humorous argument between brothers put on hold, but the Captain got a feeling his guardian hadn't heard the end of it.

"Nice of you to drop by," Tony said to Edmund. "Oh, shut up!"

XxXx

Susan felt glad, although a bit secretly, that she wore a more modern take on the male Narnian archer wear. While a lady, this situation called for tougher action, and it would be infinitely embarrassing for the Gentle Queen to be caught scaling pipes of buildings and outsides of windows with a dress. Finally making it to the top of a building, she searched for her brown-haired charge before spotting the small blob in the distance that was Clint. His motions weren't clear, but when any alien aircraft that flew by him blew up, or when the Avengers moved places as if coordinated by someone watching from a bird's eye view, she knew it was his doing.

"Need any help, Clint?" The brunette must have been surprised, because she received a momentary silence from his end of the radio. "Susan," he addressed; their meeting was forcibly short due to his time spent unconscious in the helicarrier and Susan listening to her two siblings' and Fury's plans, but the fellow archer quickly learned that his protector would not accept any sort of formality from her charge. This brought a smile to her lips when the queen heard him speak as so. "I need someone to ensure the perimeters are kept," he continued. "How are you with the bow?" Susan allowed a smirk to lift her lips and notched an arrow. "The best." "You're on, your highness," Clint chuckled over the line, and an explosion of fire bloomed in the hawk's vicinity in a sign of challenge. Susan raised her bow and shot an aircraft down, starting to have the most real fun she hadn't had in ages.

XxXx

_Wyrd_, it was called. Destiny. The humans of old had acknowledged it, the Asgardians more so; _wyrd_ was the invisible force that governed all, it was the unstoppable power that determined the fates of even the immortals from Asgard. That was why it was so important to live in the here and now, the reason why the humans of eras ago who respected the presence of higher beings didn't think much past a time where they held power, why the Asgardians feasted whenever and took adventures for the thrill of it wherever. But was it destiny, then, for Thor to find himself battling his brother until one side fell first?

Thor stopped striking lightning at the portal, satisfied with some of the damage he had done and already aware of the increasing size of the hole in the sky that his lightning could only do so much. Tony radioed in, alerting them of a Leviathan approaching the perimeter too closely, where the NYPD were shooting down any alien that came and ensuring the safety of the citizens crossing. The monstrous flying alien was heading Thor's way, and he informed back that he'd take care of it. The prince's mind was elsewhere, though, still thinking deeply about his brother.

"The future is ever changing," Lucy spoke, and the Asgardian nearly jumped having been caught off-guard. "Why should _wyrd_ decide which path you'll choose?" The red-haired girl was on a lower building than Thor's, but she also must have had a headset, and she was at a distance enough where the immortal could see her face if he tried. Thor blinked. "How do you know…?" Understanding his surprise, Lucy smiled. "The Vikings came to England when their land was flooding. My siblings and I learned much about them when we were studying history at school." The young royal extended her gaze to the city below, keeping an eye on the civilians escaping to the perimeter, her thumb smoothing over the handle of a knife in her hand. She was keeping watch, making sure none got harmed in their run to safety. The collapse of a building nearby alerted Thor of the Leviathan coming his way, and he readied his hammer. "What school did you go to?" he asked in curiosity. Lucy paused. "My siblings and I are from England." She turned to him. "Of Earth."

It was off that note Thor leapt off the Empire State Building and attacked the Leviathan. The prince inwardly wished, with a sense of humour, his guardian had a little more tact next time.

—

**A/N: So there you have it, the Battle for Manhattan featuring the Pevensie siblings! Also, if you haven't read "Of Similar Paths" (Chapter 7.5), it would be wise to do so now, because it's actually kind of important. ;^^ I called the alien aircraft, flying vehicle thingy a transport if only for the lack of words; any comments of an official name for it would be much appreciated. I'm so grateful for everyone's support! **

Next: Proposal—Reaction


	12. Proposal & Reaction

Proposal—Reaction

One proposes, and a decision must be made.

–––

"Susan," Clint sent through the communication, "I'm out."

The dark-haired beauty understood the meaning of this, especially with her fellow archer's heavy breathing and the unmistakable sounds of close-combat carrying over. An alien snarled in the background. The queen turned over Clint's message in her head as she shot down a Chitauri flying an aircraft; the vehicle crashed with another, erupting in a brief explosion before dying off into sparks and flames. She checked the arrows in her quiver and the extra bundle she had set on her feet, before slipping off the rooftop and sliding down to the ground via pipes along the wall. "I'm coming," she informed, her response followed by Clint suggesting they regroup with the others after meeting, and she agreed.

Clint struck down another alien with his bow before picking up a piece of rubble and setting it on his string. Aiming carefully, he sent it flying between another Chitauri's eyes, before the invader fell back into its partner, knocking them both into a car the other alien reflexively shot at when he was bumped into; the car blew up, and the two were fried. Clint never particularly liked low-ground unless he was assured with his bow and arrows or even a rifle by his side, but now he couldn't afford the luxury. Susan ran up to him, her face and clothes stained with soot; no doubt she faced an explosion of her own. "Everyone's on the roof," Clint jerked his head above him to the top of a building. Stark Tower shone nearby, the sun reflecting off its stunning windows while a battle raged on around it. The queen nodded in understanding, handing over a set of arrows as she did so, and the two began their climb up the building.

Susan suddenly cried out parts of a ways up, and Clint glanced below him to see she was struck by a shot from an alien on the street. He sent a shot of his own before acrobatically catching himself on a windowsill, climbing up a bit to gain the height he lost, and he checked on her. "You alright?" he asked, and the queen nodded. "The leather protected me a bit," the woman gestured at the archery wear, and Clint sighed in relief before continuing the climb. At the dark-haired monarch's troubled expression, the agent's brows furrowed. "Are you sure?" "I'm fine," Susan assured, and the pair finally hoisted themselves up to the roof, but the Brit couldn't help a last glance over the edge of the building. She lost her horn.

XxXx

Edmund glanced at Stark Tower again, where Thor and Loki were currently fighting. "Something bothering you?" Steve asked as he punched a Chitauri away with enormous strength. Peter looked at his brother worriedly, before head raising in realisation. There was a hiatus in battle as a lack of Chitauri had come for the meantime; all of the ones on the roof were knocked down or off, and the ones flying were occupied with Tony. The oldest Pevensie took advantage of this moment to shoot down whatever idea his sibling had in mind, just as Susan and Clint made it to the roof. "No, Ed." The dark-haired male met Peter's eyes. "I can talk to him," he insisted. "He needs someone to relate." Susan, catching on to what her younger brother was proposing, shook her head. "Loki did this by choice," she reasoned. "We can't be sure in that." The Hulk glanced between the siblings, aware everyone decided to take a momentary break from crushing, but lost on what to make of this situation; Lucy was there, wisely silent. Susan bit her lip as Peter rested his sword tip on the floor, while Edmund stood, back straight. Something was passing between the siblings, something shadowing their words, and the Avengers didn't intrude.

"He chose his words on his own accord," Peter stated, but Edmund wasn't put down by the sternness in his brother's tone. The Just King pursed his lips, his mind no doubt working through his knowledge and constructing a sentence, and those around him were aware that this monarch chose his words as an archer savoured each arrow. The younger brother came to a decision. "I spoke with him when the helicarrier was attacked." Peter choked while Steve blinked in surprise. Susan, in the back of her mind, marvelled how protector and charge reacted in unison, but turned her focus back on her siblings. Lucy chose that moment to speak before anyone could verbally respond to that. "And?" Edmund looked at the youngest, determination in his eyes. "Something is there, Lue, something burying his heart." He hesitated. "Something like Turkish delights that turn out bitter."

Cryptic, the sentence was, but that immediately roused a reaction from the other three monarchs. "The two of you are nothing alike," Susan asserted. "He's only on a wider scale," Edmund countered, but Peter spoke. "You were under a spell!" "Well, Ed didn't discover he wasn't of blood relations to us before doing so," Lucy reasoned. "Exactly." "What do you mean 'exactly,' Ed?" Peter's grip on Rhindon tightened. That was about the time Tony arrived to have a breather. "What's going on?" The billionaire wasn't able to get much else out when Edmund cut in with, "I was the traitor once—I have to talk to Loki!" An awkward silence settled. A guardian angel, king, or whatever the male claimed to be, had been a traitor? What's more, the entire conversation had carried over the head set, and Thor had heard.

XxXx

Phil gripped his weapon with white knuckles as he used a nearby wall of an apartment for support. The agent had snuck on a quinjet, planning to fly it to Manhattan, but he found himself hiding in the storage compartment when the Pevensies clambered on board and the oldest got in the driver's seat. The blonde's flying was shaky at best, but the five managed to make it, and the amateur control over the transport allowed Phil to hide better since the monarchs appeared more frightened at flying without mythical birds than they allowed to show on their faces, therefore oblivious to any stowaways on board. This was how Phil found himself dragging his recently-healed body out the aircraft and onto the street, quickly taking cover in case the alien invaders spotted and shot him. Peter had landed at the midway area that was located between the core of the city and its outskirts, where after several minutes of driving, the scenery would tone down to less congested roads and the suburbs. Phil, completely confident in "his kids"—aka the Avengers he helped Director Fury choose and assemble—headed to the edge of the city where the civilians had run to. From what he could gather, the lack of people in New York, New York was due to an unofficial emergency evacuation to the perimeters the NYPD had set up, and the agent planned to help keep the perimeter and protect the civilians as the heroes back near the centre of the city fought.

The chest wound healed in incredible rates, to which Phil recalled Director Fury's introduction to the fact the Avengers had allies—more specifically, the _"Her Highness said she has a means of healing even the gravest of wounds quickly, so they'll be working with us,"_ sentence. A part of the wound was still open, however, but Phil grabbed a roll of bandages on his way out the medical bay, and a skilfully wrapped chest due to years of experience with injuries was currently covered by his white collared shirt he always wore with his suit. A tie was sloppily put on, but of course, the agent stood more concerned with the world-shaking events transpiring in Manhattan. Phil forced his mind through the cloudiness of recently waking up from a physically and magically-induced coma, leaning on the wall more as a guide for his location as he had memorised all of the city's streets and would recognise any store sign or window he came across. It took only a clink of broken glass having shifted behind him before Phil already spun with his finger on the trigger of his raised gun. A Chitauri soldier was hunched there, as if having messed with the environment behind Phil and caught in the act. It slowly straightened its back, but Phil's gun followed him in warning.

"Ah, the pillar of support," the alien gave what Phil could only guess was a grin, though the agent didn't give it too much thought. Phil kept his hand steady; while the prototype back at the helicarrier could definitely blast this other-worldly away, the man still felt comfortable with his Beretta. The Chituari soldier must have sensed this, for it kept an eye on the gun, but the dark amusement emanating from it didn't waver. "You claimed that Laufeyson lacked conviction, and we wholly agree," it hissed. Phil gave the slightest furrowing of his brows. "You listened in?" "We like to keep an eye on our subjects," the alien vaguely answered, but the SHIELD agent understood that Loki wasn't entirely in power as the immortal may have liked. Just as Phil saw through Edmund, he looked at the situation more clearly, and he realised that perhaps the Asgardian didn't go through whatever evil plan was concocted solely by choice.

The Chitauri soldier gave a reverberating chuckle. "Even if the Asgardian shall fail after opening the portal, we will only continue on with greater force now that the Laufeyson isn't in the way." So Phil's hunch was right. "You're in no condition to throw yourself into battle, mortal," it rasped. "When your heroes are trapped in a corner, and you value their lives just as you claim, then feel free to use this." The alien moved aside to reveal a beautiful white horn hanging on the doorknob of a restaurant door forced open in hasty escape; no doubt its occupants fled when they heard of the quickly spreading invasion at Stark Tower. At the sight of the horn, Phil remembered what Lucy had told him, how if one were to blow it, help would supposedly come. Did the Chitauri hear that too through Thor? Was it possible for their bugs to spread with whatever Loki came in contact with? Either way, the agent caught on to what the alien before him was stating. Phil using the instrument that promised help was a sign of having lost hope, depending on myths to rescue. Sounding the horn meant giving up.

Phil brought his eyes back to the Chitauri. The outer-space soldier's grin widened at the sign Phil understood its message. "When the horn is played, you shall release the humans outside the city back in, and we will let your heroes live." There was no promise the civilians would live. "I can't command the police into surrendering the civilians," Phil spoke, but the alien must have thought everything ahead. "Say you're with the Avengers. Claim they have a plan. Give your fellow doomed mortals hope, and they will hurry to do whatever they believe will save them." The Chitauri moved, Phil immediately spraying bullets after it, but none made their target, and the alien escaped back to the battle raging in the city. Phil lowered his gun and looked at the horn.

XxXx

Natasha tuck and rolled as Clint taught her, landing safely on Stark Tower. Immediately searching for Selvig, she looked around her as she hurriedly got up and ran to the Tesseract-powered device. The man was watching its power from a distance of the machine. He turned to look over his shoulder when he heard the rapid footsteps of Natasha running towards him, but the agent was already there. She knocked his head against the half-wall of the platform that prevented anyone falling over the edge of the tower, effectively releasing the scientist from mind-control.

_Please,_ she prayed, _let there be a way to end this._

If Selvig had some control over his mind while under Loki's influence, he would have created a shutdown failsafe to the Tesseract-powered portal device. If the method worked, then the portal would close, shutting off the quick access to Earth for the Chitauri to use. If Tony redirected the nuclear missile sent by the World Security Council to the Chitauri force base, then only that part of space would explode. If the base held the source of power that allowed the Chitauri army to live in such a far distance, then the aliens at Earth would fall dead like robots out of power courtesy to the nuclear missile. If Tony fell through the closing portal just in time, then an Avenger wouldn't have been lost. If Hulk was around the area Ironman was falling, then the Other Guy would catch him.

But Selvig didn't have some control over his mind.

The portal was unstoppable.

–––

**A/N: There's more exciting stuff coming—I was torn on where to split the long draft, since as you can see, this chapter is significantly longer compared to the rest! :D Aaahh, the Avengers discover Edmund had been a traitor before, and Phil has come to Manhattan! As you've read, Edmund and a Chitauri soldier propose something that must receive an answer, sooner or later (of course, sooner ;) ), hence the chapter title. Can't wait to post the next chapter, and I look forward to everyone's reviews! ;3**

Next: Traitor—Betrayer


	13. Traitor & Betrayer

Traitor— Betrayer

Two of a kind, from one to another.

–––

"Dr. Selvig?" Natasha spoke his name. The astrophysicist slowly got up as he felt the side of his head, realising he was bleeding. Nothing major, though, and there were bigger things to worry about. "The portal…" he murmured, his eyes dazedly looking about him before landing on his computer. He blinked the glazed look away, immediately wiping his blood-stained hand on his shirt and moving to his laptop. "Dr. Selvig," Natasha called again, and the man glanced at her in the urgency of her tone. "Is there a way to shut the portal?" The Swedish scientist typed away on his computer, his eyes darting between the screen and the Tesseract within the machine before him. "I'll look into it," he promised, determination lacing his voice, "but I need a lot of time." The red-haired woman looked beyond her, seeing her allies fight with admirable inner fire against the army of Chitauri. They could do it. As long as the portal was closed. "Stark," she commanded over the communication, "get me down there; I have some aliens to wipe the floor with."

XxXx

Thor's brows furrowed as the conversation playing into his earpiece faintly went on, though he couldn't make too much of it as he was preoccupied with his brother. In a brief window of time, Thor moved to raise the volume on the human invention, but a sudden swing from Loki forced the volume too high, and Thor reflexively threw the earpiece away. The device clattered on the floor, the voices now much louder as the two Asgardians fought on, but Loki slowed in realisation of what he was hearing. As the main speaker—Lucy's youngest brother, Thor identified—went on, Thor watched as an expressionless face fell on the other Asgardian as he stilled, before, not meeting Thor's eyes, Loki spoke. "Bring me to where they are."

XxXx

"You were ten!" "Was I not responsible for the same number of lives lost the past few days?"

Peter and Edmund were frozen in a staring contest, the High King unwilling as the Just King was determined. The two had shared a couple words as Tony came back with Natasha, but the serious air didn't change. "What would you say, then?" Peter asked, and again, a thousand words seemed to run before Edmund's eyes, but the dark-haired male shook them away until only he saw only those that mattered. "When I was being brought to the Narnian camp where Aslan awaited, I reflected on my actions," he began. "Deep down inside I wanted to forgive my family whom I grew up with, wanted to forgive the place that only I remembered as home, because once I did, I know all of you would forgive me for my transgressions and welcome me back. I wished I was able to forgive them so that I didn't have to push them away anymore and just feel accepted, but…Aslan taught me one thing.

You can't forgive others without first forgiving yourself."

"What if I don't regret any of my actions?" Everyone turned in surprise to see Loki standing just a little ways behind them, Thor with him, an unidentifiable air about the two as Loki directly spoke without twisting words and Thor watching, somewhat surprised and confused as to why he had agreed to bring his brother there.

"You're the 'god of trickery,' not of _murder_," Edmund pointed out. "You already recognise the sins you've committed, but the next step is accepting you've done them and only allowing yourself to remember them enough so that you may not do them again. Don't allow guilt to eat you alive and control your actions when your actions should belong to you." Edmund's brows furrowed, his eyes pleading as he hesitated before going on. "Loki, if there's one thing you must get out of my words, then let it be this: in the same way there's more to life than just revenge, there's more to family than just blood."

Loki's face was expressionless, but when he shifted his jaw in thought and he forced effort into keeping up a stony expression, Thor realised, with an overwhelming wave of relief, that the brother he grew up with was still there. It was also because of this that Thor sensed something weighing down his fellow Asgardian. The prince's eyes flashed, and his grip around Mjolnir tightened. "What did the Chitauri do to you?" Loki met his brother's eyes, but he said nothing, the immortal's mouth thin in defiance. The fear buried in Loki's soul, however, spiked a bit, and when Thor shifted, Loki knew the blonde sensed it. "It's pointless," a Chitauri rasped, and the group looked around them, recognising they were surrounded by more firepower and aliens than preferable. "Are you ready to die, now?"

_"If we can't protect the earth, you can be sure we'll avenge it."_

Tony felt like grimly laughing at how prophetic his claim was. This was it. They either give up and die now or fight for as long as they can and die later. Tony never liked waiting. At the faces of his allies near him and at Loki's look of determination, the billionaire allowed his Ironman face helmet to fall, automatically powering his suit. Of course, he never liked having only one preference, either. As if the sound of his mask clinking shut was a signal, everyone burst into motion, taking down lines of Chitauri even when one alien would be replaced with four. While Loki was a troublesome foe, he was a fearsome ally, catching many aliens with illusions and following up with stabs and slashes with his staff. When word of the immortal's betrayal no doubt reached the higher ups, the staff stopped glowing, indicating the Asgardian no longer had power from the Tesseract, but Loki fought on.

Their territory grew smaller, however, as the greater number of Chitauri started taking effect, tiring the heroes and backing them up into a tight circle. At the perimeter, Phil worriedly watched the screen some of the police set up, displaying what the street cameras could get, and he looked down at the horn hanging on his waist. "Sir, you're bleeding." A female police officer spoke, and the agent looked up to see that several of the police were going about, giving the injured civilians whatever first aid they could. Phil felt his chest with his fingers, aware that the cloth wrapped around his injury was probably turning red at the centre, the blood seeping through to his shirt. Phil moved to cover it with his tie, and he gave a small, professional smile. "What happened to the policemen shooting down any alien that approached the perimeter?" The woman blinked. "The aliens stopped coming; I think they're more focused on attacking the superheroes," she gestured at the screen. "I see," Phil said. Identifying he didn't want help, the female officer moved on, giving help to the injured. Phil's troubled eyes were fixed on the screen, but his his mind seemed elsewhere in thought. His hand was on the horn.

—

**A/N: Is Phil going to surrender the civilians for the safety of his "super family?" After all, there's nothing like a main character switching alliances ;) By the way, the actor for Erik Selvig is Swedish, so I decided to make Selvig Swedish. XD I really want to give equal focus to all the characters, but I couldn't avoid the speech by Edmund! ;^^ Comments are greatly welcomed! Stay tuned for more~!**

**P.S. I plan to give thanks to all my readers—if you would like to be mentioned, please comment or send my a PM (Private Message). Thank you!**

Next: Coulson—the Aliens


	14. Coulson & the Aliens

Coulson—the Aliens

Phil saves his heroes.

–––

Steve slammed into a Chitauri with his shield, sending the alien flying into the countless more behind it. The blow certainly wasn't the Captain's best, but he and the others were overcome with lassitude, and their deadliness started to wane in effect. This only served to confuse Steve more when his soldier instincts shifted in every subtle movement he noted the aliens made, until he realised what seemed off in the battle: the Chitauri weren't giving it their all. The Captain's allies must have realised this, for confusion laced their motions, every punch strong but wary. The Chitauri were expecting something, and Steve decided he'd rather discover what it was before that "something" came. "What are you waiting for?" Steve grunted as he got up, putting his shield between him and the invasion army. The alien before him grinned. "Just–" Something blasted into the row of aliens before Steve, effectively clearing an area for the group of heroes to quickly cover and regain territory. The Chitauri that was behind the row appeared startled, before looking up to what attacked. Phil was flying an alien aircraft, hands on what Peter recognised as the cannon controls.

The Chitauri in front of Steve whom Phil recognised as the one who spoke to him near the perimeter snarled. "You! You were supposed to–" "Oh, were you thinking of that thing you gave me? I recall throwing something into the sewer on the way here; I hope that didn't ruin your plans or anything." Phil must have had a skill speaking at room level and yet be heard long distances, because the aliens below him screeched and started attacking him, but with the agent at the controls of an attack aircraft and the Avengers protective of their handler, the Chitauri stood no chance. Clint and Natasha smiled at their friend's antics. The other aliens flying aircraft took after Phil, and the SHIELD agent conducted manoeuvres to shake them off and crash them into obstacles, while sometimes pulling up and shooting some down with his cannons.

Bursting into action with renewed vigour, the group continued their attack against the Chitauri, and the aliens were pushed back. With Phil sometimes wiping out one row after another with his aircraft while focusing the flying aliens' attention on him, the burden was lightened, and the heroes were allowed to regain the territory they lost. Fuelled by anger, the Chitauri focused on defeating their opponents, frustrated they were being shown up by a few weaklings. Peter felt a new wave of energy surge through him, the same emotion he'd get when he fought with his fellow Narnians, only stronger, and suddenly, Rhindon started glowing with a blue light. When he struck at a Chitauri soldier, the sword sliced through it cleanly, and Peter's brows furrowed in confusion. "Edmund, what's the meaning of this?" His brother spared a glance at the glowing sword, recognising the sight. "It has magical properties, Pete; remember the time I told you I fought those sea serpents with Caspian and Lue? Rhindon did the same thing!"

Peter fought back-to-back with his charge, him with his sword while Steve with his shield and handgun. The Pevensie glanced at his sword before looking at a nearby Leviathan. "You want to go flying?" Steve turned his gaze over to where his protector motioned, and he grinned. "Why not?" The pair ran and leapt from the rooftop in unison, safely landing on the aircraft Phil manoeuvred to where they were falling when he spotted them. "Tell me you have a reason for jumping off a building," the agent joked, and Peter raised Rhindon. "Let's get ourselves a flying alien monster!" The trio approached the closest Leviathan, and Peter gritted his teeth as he stabbed his glowing sword into its armour. Steve defended them with his shield and shot down Chitauri that were on top of the Leviathan with his handgun, while Phil flew the aircraft forward, and they left behind a steaming trail of sliced armour. Phil circled back and shot at the un-armoured side, and the flying monstrosity's head dipped down and started its descent, crashing into a building and laying still. The three looked at each other. "Ready for Round 2?"

Meanwhile, Edmund, Tony, and the Hulk were a fury of mixed colours, fighting in a synchronisation they didn't know they had. While the Other Guy defended them from some shots that only his skin could handle without getting damaged like the Ironman suit, Tony and Edmund worked hard to take down as many of their opponents as possible. Tony blasted an alien at the same time a sword appeared through its chest, and the billionaire saw Edmund protect himself with a sword before grabbing the one he had thrown into the alien and continued to fight with two blades. "I think that one was mine," Tony commented, kneeing one alien up and throwing him into others off the building. "I disagree," the Englishman huffed as whipped through several forms of Narnian sword forms that helped him more than once when facing enemies. "My swords are faster than your blasts." "Oh?" Edmund blocked an attack and pushed the Chitauri off, turning to slash down one that tried sneaking up on the left, but it was blown back by a sudden shot of energy. Edmund turned to see his charge with a raised hand. "Very funny," he flashed a grin, before throwing his sword into yet another alien Tony was aiming for. The two shared a glare before going into motion, taking down opponents as fast as they could. The Hulk looked ready to face-palm, opting instead to sigh and roll his eyes before continuing to fight.

With the Asgardians, Thor quickly helped his brother up before hammering down a Chitauri that tried to take advantage of the momentary lack of focus, and Loki simultaneously knocked one off its feet with his staff before stabbing it. "You alright, brother?" Thor asked, before noticing the trail of blood on the dark-haired male's arm and back. The blonde looked ready to say something, but Loki cut in with a, "You look no better," gesturing at the other's bleeding forehead and leg. "This might help," Lucy came over with a short breath, taking out a cordial. She moved to open it, but the three suddenly burst into action when another wave of Chitauri came. In an opening between the aliens' attacks, Lucy turned to the two Asgardians and twisted open the cordial. A sudden move from the Chitauri knocked her over, however, and Thor and Loki quickly covered each other's backs as they defended her from any attacks. The fire-flower juice splashed on the three of them, and when the Chitauri were finally knocked off the building, Loki and Thor brought their fingers to their lips.

"What is this sweet substance?" Suddenly, their wounds started healing, and they felt as if they could keep going for another day. "It heals any wound," Lucy explained, earning her a blink in surprise. "Then, all of it is gone…" Loki spoke, and Lucy smiled. "It's alright, I don't really use it often, and everyone can be trusted to take care of themselves." Her brightness immediately dissipated when, having used up all her knives, Lucy took out the dagger Father Christmas gave her, and she threw it at a Chitauri, before sliding it out and starting to battle in her true style. Loki raised his brows in surprise. "I suppose she isn't called the Valiant for nothing," Thor commented, and the two brother looked at each other before turning away quickly, though there was the hint of a smile on their faces.

Natasha defended the outer rims of their territory while Clint and Susan protected her and the others from long-range attacks by shooting down any alien aircraft; Susan would send an arrow into the aliens onboard, and Clint would aim at the weak points of the flying transport and destroy their engines. As the ones with the most experience covering a lot of territory in battles, they quickly got a big picture of their situation. When a large chunk of the Chitauri's forces were wiped out, the group was allowed to recollect themselves, and Phil landed his aircraft on the roof to take part in the brief discussion Natasha began. "None of this will matter if we can't shut that portal," the Russian commented, and Steve nodded in agreement. Clint and Susan were facing elsewhere, acting lookout just in case the Chituari decided to not make use of the moment of rest and attack when the group wasn't looking. "What if we tried destroying the core of the Tesseract-powered device with something that has relations to the Tesseract?" Blinking in realisation, everyone turned to Loki's staff. Said immortal nodded in understanding. "It's worth a try."

Suddenly, Loki realised he was looking at an outstretched hand with a pair of rings, one gold and the other silver. He met Lucy's eyes. "Take it," she said. Her siblings looked at each other; Lucy was always the one more sensitive to feelings from the future, and so they didn't doubt her decision. Slipping out their own pair of rings from their pockets, they handed it to Loki. "Are they not of sentimental value to you?" the Asgardian queried, to which the monarchs shook their head. "There's no place for us to go to," Lucy mysteriously smiled. "If anything, this is where I choose to make my last stand," Susan commented, a grin on her features. Loki hesitated, seeing there was a sort of history connecting the owners and the rings, but at their look of determination, he accepted them after a warning from the oldest to only carry the rings by the chains they hung from. The group then agreed to keep the Chitauri away from Stark Tower as Thor and his brother headed to the machine maintaining the portal, and the pair hitched a ride on Phil's aircraft to the device. Phil quickly turned back to help protect the tower, and once the immortals were at their destination, they found a Dr. Selvig tapping away on a computer, eyes intent on the screen.

"Doctor," Thor greeted, and the greying man looked up. "Might you know a way to shut off the portal?" The scientist blinked. "The core of the machine is its weakness." That was the most he could get out, before Loki kneeled and started forcing the staff into the core of the machine, surprising his ex-enemy in attempting to help them. While the barrier seemed impenetrable except to the staff, it took a great deal of strength to oppose the power, and Loki only managed to go a third of a ways past the barrier when he was suddenly rejected. "It won't work with a powerless staff," Selvig explained, and Loki glanced at him before looking back at the staff.

The gem started to glow, and the Asgardian brought it back near the machine, slowly pushing against the force of the Tesseract barrier to the core. Thor, seeing what the other immortal was going, kneeled next to Loki and placed his hands on his brother's own, inserting his own power. "What are you doing?" Loki hissed, but Thor would have none of that. "With only you powering the staff, you'll be dead in a minute." "Better I in a minute than everyone in an hour," Loki stated roughly, as if he didn't need his brother's help, but his posture visibly relaxed a bit in a part of his burden being lifted. Suddenly, from nowhere, Loki was hit with a simple _knowing_ of what he should do, and he took out the chained rings the Pevensies gave him and slipped them on to a part of the staff near the gem; the glow intensified, allowing the immortals to insert less power. The rings started to melt, becoming part of the staff, but the the rings' previous owners claim of not needing it resurfaced in the brothers' memories, and they kept on.

"Wait!" Tony suddenly barked over the communication, "There's a nuclear missile coming, and I know just where to put it!" Thor and Loki glanced at each other, aware they wouldn't be able to keep up the energy in the staff for too long. "Make it quick, Man of Iron," Thor replied, and the billionaire understood, from the more relaxed form of his ally's sentence, that he had no time to dilly-dally. Sixty feet below them, Phil barely dodged an alien aircraft, and he tried to shake off his blurry vision. "You alright, Phil?" Captain America just asked Phil a question with his real name while shielding him, Peter, and Steve from a blast? Ha. "Never been better," Phil smiled assuringly, though when the two blondes on board turned away to the aliens at hand, Phil's smile slipped, and he glanced down at his tie.

Red was spreading across his chest from under it.

And thousands of miles away, a plastic case of Captain America trading cards in Fury's hand suddenly cracked. Not a minute later, an agent rushed to inform him Agent Coulson wasn't in the med-bay.

—

**A/N: Ah, I felt like Fury should be mentioned at some point, so apologies if the ending sounded too sudden. ;^^ Take note that it took longer for our heroes to discover a way to close the portal, it may be important later! Many thanks to all my supporters, you guys are my motivation for writing! The opportunity to not be mentioned has ended; as no one commented or PM'd me, I'm noting everyone at the end of the story! Feel free to comment! ;D**

Next: Heroes—Countdown


	15. Heroes & Countdown

Heroes—Countdown

And their clocks tick.

—

Bruce felt himself emerge to reality like one would rise after waking up in water, only to get slammed by something. Memories, he knew, fragments of what the Other Guy experienced so that he could get an idea what transpired while he was out, but there were other things too. Blinking, the doctor found Edmund had slammed into him just as a building past them blew up, and Bruce felt his heart beat faster when he realised the battle still raged on, and the Chitauri were everywhere. "Bruce?" Edmund acknowledged it wasn't the big green Hulk he instinctively saved from a shot, but the genius scientist whom the monarch had been tasked to originally protect. Bruce opened his mouth, but the aliens gave no room for a response, and the pair were forced to get up and dodge attacks before searching for cover. The ground at their heels suddenly exploded, sending them off the building to get up groaning off a parked car. Slipping to the side, the two kept eyes on their surroundings in case any Chitauri weaponry discovered their location and aimed for them.

Edmund was panting heavily, though when the king glanced at his charge, the doctor looked no better with a pale face and sweat gathering at his brow. "Bruce?" the dark-haired monarch asked again, concern evident on his voice. "What's going on?" The doctor sighed, feeling his forehead, already aware of how unhealthy his complexion probably looked. "The Other Guy came out too long," he explained. "My body can't stay in that state for long periods of time; it simply doesn't have the stamina." Edmund's lips thinned. "I didn't know," he honestly replied. Bruce waved away the apologetic tone in his voice; Edmund couldn't always have watched him, after all, especially with Tony as a charge. "So what now?" the king asked, eyes examining the street. The rising hum of alien aircraft warned them of another squad approaching, and Bruce's lips lifted into a small smile. "Do you have another weapon on you?" Edmund looked at him, blinked, and chuckled. "You and Tony, I swear…." Bruce raised a brow. "What?" Edmund spotted a dead alien with a gun on the ground by its hand, and he kicked it to the doctor. "I think the two of you have a stubborn streak of equal strength." The monarch smiled. "I like that."

With their determination, Chuck Norris would have nothing on them.

XxXx

Phil was acting a little off, Peter and Steve noticed, but they were caught by surprise when the Avengers' handler suddenly slipped off the controls. Steve hurried to catch him, and Peter scrambled for the gears when the aircraft veered downwards to the left, where a troop of Chitauri on a Levitathan's back were spraying shots at them. The transport rocked when a blast caught their tail-end, but they managed to hastily escape the aliens' range. "Phil? Hey!" Peter looked over his shoulder as him and Steve moved into a more comfortable position for them both to do their tasks better, and the king was greeted with the sight of the captain cradling Phil's head as he checked the agent's pulse on his neck; their friend's white shirt was stained red. Steve looked up to meet Peter's eyes. "Can you land us somewhere safe?" Peter got a good idea what the red meant. Checking the controls, the young monarch felt his lips thin in realisation of what damage they received from their close escape from the aliens earlier. "The best I can give us is a semi-crash-landing, given we 'crash right.'" Several blasts shot past them from behind, alerting them of another squad of alien aircraft chasing them in the air. Peter manoeuvred the three of them to another street, but their pursuers kept up, and Phil's condition wasn't getting any better. Steve set up his shield between them and the aliens for protection, and Peter sharpened his focus. "No safe landing, then."

XxXx

"Stupid World Security Council," Tony muttered. "Stupid aliens—and Tesseract, might I add. Why couldn't they have chosen a different tower to begin a war on?" The billionaire remembered the effort he put into building his and Pepper's baby, more often than not doing the actual physical labour—with his Ironman suit, of course. If some Alien vs Predator wannabees hadn't decided they'd come to Earth via a Tesseract device on Stark Tower, the shining structure wouldn't suffer more damages than its surroundings. The super spy duo, genius doctor with an anger issue, 70-plus-year old captain, and pretty-boy demigod—his, dare Tony say it, _friends_—wouldn't have to throw themselves into a battle that should have never happened. Loki was a surprise, as were the four guardian angels who also had monarch names three miles long, but Tony couldn't help the bit of attachment anyways. The billionaire blamed it on his lack of genuine friends growing up as a genius who graduated college when his generation was still attending high school, as a son whose father hardly showed affection to before kicking the bucket; even now, as a big company leader whose advisor attempted to take his life several times before Tony was forced to kill him.

War, battling, _this_—it was never fun. Even when Tony cracked jokes or responded with his comical, dodge-the-bullet ways, the grim anticipation of what to come always ran under the surface. After all this, Tony decided, he'd try shawarma. Maybe he'd invite the others, too. "Stark, you don't have much time," Fury alerted over the communication. "Tell me something I don't know," Tony huffed, stretching his neck as it had begun to ache after the strain of flying faster than he ever had. He approached Stark Tower, the portal directly above it. The battle raged on around it as the metres counting down the distance from the portal blinked on the Ironman screen. Tony flew closer to the portal, forcing all his strength into keeping the missile on the desired course.

_40 metres away._ Clint and Susan were using up the last of their arrows, while Natasha and Lucy engaged in close-combat.

_30 metres away._ Edmund and Bruce struggled to keep fighting. Bruce barely dodged a blast.

_20 metres away. _Thor and Loki's arms started shaking in maintaining power in the staff, and Selvig watched on helplessly as the brothers' weariness became evident.

_10 metres away._ Peter fought with the controls as he dodged the aliens on his tail. Steve was shouting at Phil to stay awake.

Tony was in the portal, still flying towards the Chitauri base ahead of him. "Sir, would you like to try Misses Potts?" JARVIS asked. Two minutes after ringing, the line went dead. An explosion bloomed before Tony, but he was only vaguely aware of it as his eyes slipped closed and his body went limp. Edmund heard his charge's end of the communication burst in static.

"Tony?"

—

**A/N: Countdown is part of the title because Bruce's time "Hulking out" ended, the distance Tony brought the missile to space shortened, and Phil's life is counting down. The story's not over! Don't give up on me, there's much more to come—stay tuned! ;D **

Next: Waking—Sleeping


	16. Waking & Sleeping

Waking—Sleeping

There's a difference between dead and alive.

–––

"He's not slowing down," Loki commented. "No," Thor replied, "he's not." Panic laced their voices as they spoke; they had just closed the portal where Tony barely slipped through in time, but the billionaire's descent hadn't slowed, and from the seconds ticking by without movement, it was likely the man was unconscious. The Asgardians had joined the others at the street below Stark Tower, and everyone watched anxiously as they nursed their wounds from battle. Chitauri bodies were collapsed everywhere, something Loki inwardly rejoiced at the sight, but the absence of the two blondes, the agent he stabbed, and the lack of reply from the witty rich man aka Tony Stark admittedly worried the immortal. Edmund and Bruce were carefully straight-faced, but they were pale, although due to worry or exhaustion, no one was certain—most likely both. Either way, the pair glued their eyes on the falling figure of their companion.

Suddenly, an alien transport flew directly into Tony's path, and everything crashed on the street everyone had gathered, though as Peter was at the controls, he managed minimal damage in the landing. Everyone went into motion, helping the aircraft's passengers get out safely, while Thor helped lifting Tony as the Ironman suit was heavy. Peter and Steve quickly disembarked with Phil in tow, the captain quickly laying his friend down and readjusting his hand on Phil's wrist for feeling the pulse better as Peter glanced at the unconscious Ironman worriedly. The Avengers managed to rip off the mask, allowing them to see Tony's face, but the billionaire wasn't waking up. "Stark…" Phil coughed, trying to wake the man, but his voice was weak. "Come on, you git," Edmund forced through clench teeth, and he kicked Ironman roughly with a loud, "Tony!" The man jerked awake, looking around him with wide eyes before relaxing. "That's no way to wake a billionaire playboy," he muttered, and everyone took a collective sigh in relief, before Phil's condition brought back their attention.

Natasha and Clint helped Tony stand up as Bruce and Lucy went to work, trying to patch up Phil, but the man had pushed his body too much, and they didn't have the tools necessary for this kind of job. Steve kept them updated on the agent's pulse, before unconsciousness threatened to take his companion over. "Phil, you have to stay with us," Lucy urged, her English voice increasing in volume, and Bruce moved faster, doing the best he could, but without his glasses, his coordination wasn't the best. "Stay with me, soldier," Steve pressed, but Phil's eyes were drooping. The agent's lips moved, but the Captain couldn't make anything of it. "Phil–!" Steve began, but the pulse on Phil's wrist stopped, and Steve crouched there, frozen, before letting it go and standing up, while Bruce and Lucy joined him. Everyone grasped the meaning behind their actions and sudden silence.

"No," Edmund's eyes watered. "No, he can't–he still–" Peter laid a hand on his brother's shoulder, and whatever words the younger wished to say were swallowed thickly. Clint moved quickly, pumping his handler's chest and performing CPR. "One, two, three," Give air, then listen for any breathing. "One, two, three," Give air, then listen for any breathing. "One, two–" Natasha pulled her companion away, and the archer struggled to return to Phil's side, but the Russian would have none of it. Clint shakily turned away, and Natasha hugged him, her eyes fixed on her longtime friend and her chin quivering. "Lucy?" Bruce asked the red-head, but she shook her head. "I spilled all of it," she spoke tearily, and at the lack of a cordial on her, her statement was understood. "How…" Tony faltered. "How can he just die…?" There was no response to that. Except one.

"Why all this sadness? The child is not dead but asleep."

The Pevensies froze, before slowly turning to look behind them where they heard the voice.

It was Aslan.

–––

**A/N: Ah, I'm evil for ending the chapter here, but no worries, there will be another! ;) Apologies for the short chapter, but I wanted to cut it off here. :P The sentence Aslan says is based off Mark 5:39 of the Bible. I was thinking how Aslan should appear to the Avengers, and I was struck with the idea of a scene like the story of Jesus raising a dead girl, so I thought Phil was the best choice; if I made Tony die, for example, then it would seem that the story is focused on him, when I mean for is to tell a tale of the Avengers and the Pevensies together. Besides, Phil could use more attention from fans–hardly anyone knew who he was until the Avengers movie! :( On another note, I know nothing of CPR, so the count to three and other stuff were just what I assumed was close to it. ;D**

Next: Aslan


	17. Aslan

Aslan

The Great Lion, Son of the Emperor-beyond-the-Sea, Creator and the one true King of the world of Narnia.

—

Steve didn't know what he was seeing.

What he saw was a lion, but he also saw there was so much more. It was as if something bigger, a higher being, took visual state of a lion, but a simple, physical form couldn't contain all of its greatness, and the leftover energy spilled over from the lion, enhancing the colours around it, magnifying the beauty of everything that the _stars_ could be seen from the heavens, and indeed the air even tasted sweeter. The universe seemed to circulate around the point of space that was the lion, and Steve, having yet to look at its face, fell to a knee, bowing as he astonishingly felt scared that his physical form in this world would keel over if he looked into the lion's eyes. The soldier was faintly aware of his companions doing the same, their bodies quivering not in fear of what the lion would do, but in awe of what it could. Even more shocking was the tangent love flowing for them from this lion, and all the world seemed to take a sigh as this manifestation of greatness and love stood on it.

"Rise, young ones."

Even the voice was all-majestic, reverberating around and through everything, rolling like thunder and crashing like waves, low and sweet, warm and soft. Everyone stood up as the lion padded by them towards Phil, and Steve marvelled how soft and light the big cat's fur felt. As if Phil had heard the lion's command, his eyes slowly opened, before he looked around him and got up, spotting the great beast gazing upon him. There was no fear in the agent's eyes, but more surprising was the recognition in which he looked at the lion with. "I'm dead," he spoke, but the lion smiled. "What is lost has been properly found, dear child. Death shall meet you another day." Steve understood everyone nearly lost Phil—actually did, for a while—but when his friend seemed to relax a bit at the lion's first statement, something underlay those words. The captain recalled Phil greeting the Chitauri about throwing something in the sewer, but Steve couldn't identify if that was what the two before him were referring to. Everything was so cryptic and symbolic with the lion.

Phil dipped his head in gratefulness and understanding, before standing when the lion turned to Steve and the others, and those who hadn't known the lion before were struck by its powerful gaze. Amber eyes glowed, a liquid fire swirling about them, and if one looked into those eyes long enough, one would feel as if he could start to see his future playing out in them, every path possible and every reality shown. Suddenly, and some wondered its delay, curiosity and confusion came to mind. Who was this lion? The four monarchs answered this soon enough. Lucy was the first, springing towards the big cat and buried her face in his fur with arms wrapped around its mane. The young queen was quickly followed by her siblings, each hugging the lion with deep affection and thankfulness in its presence. "Aslan," one of them murmured, and somehow, everyone felt as if they had already known. Who else could this lion be, anyway? The name alone seemed to bloom an inexplainable joy in everyone's hearts.

Slowly, sorrow and happiness in their movements, the four protectors stood up, knowing in their eyes. Phil joined the Avengers, and Aslan—king of kings, creator of Narnia, according to the heroes' knowledge of what the monarchs shared—requested an audience with Loki, though it seemed more to be the other way around, as the latter meekly followed the lion to the side to speak. Lucy hugged Thor, Peter to Steve and Phil, Edmund to Bruce and Tony, and Susan to Natasha and Clint. Edmund stepped back, smiling proudly at his charges. "There will be more trials you have to face, but our task is done." Tony's brows furrowed. "You're leaving?" the Just King smiled. "We have to go." He didn't mention where. When Peter connected eyes with Phil as Edmund said this, the agent realised what he momentarily saw behind a door was the monarchs' destination, and he felt his stomach flip in the shock and realisation of what he had experienced. When Aslan was done speaking with Loki, the two joined the group, and the lion looked at the four kings and queens. "Further up, further in," he said, and the Pevensies' faces glowed in happiness and peace at the words.

The last memory the Avengers and Loki had was the sight of Aslan and the four protectors turning away, and maybe, if they thought harder, they'd recall seeing the outline of a door opening to the figures from Narnia, but one couldn't be sure when memories turn blurry and mix with imagination after a while. Their times with the five—Aslan, Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy—stayed clear, however, and it was like they were with them just yesterday regardless of how much time passed since the Battle of Manhattan. Loki submitted to following Thor to Asgard, the former's eyes enlightened with something indescribable that Thor marvelled how alive his brother looked, and the group said their own farewells when the Asgardians had to leave Earth, taking the Tesseract with them. After a while, they began to miss the Pevensies, and wondered. Would they see each other again?

—

**A/N: Apologies for yet another probably sudden ending—one last chapter to come, so stay tuned! I felt Steve's POV (point of view) was suitable to see through since he believes in one god, as proven it the movie when he said, "There's only one god, ma'am, and I'm pretty sure he doesn't dress like that," when Natasha told him about Loki and Thor being regarded as gods. Hee Hee, the mention of a door with Phil is a reference to the door in the last _Chronicles of Narnia_ book—_The Last Battle_—that led from Old Narnia to New Narnia, which were known as Narnia and Aslan's Country respectively in previous books. "Further up, further in," is also a quote from _The Last Battle_. **

Next: The End


	18. The End

The End

is just the beginning.

—

Steve stared at the words, froze it knowing how to react. There was happiness, yes, and definitely a dash of fear and awe in there, but the soldier, overall, didn't know what to do. The Bible was in his hands; the Captain had felt his faith shaken with the existence of aliens, and then renewed with the presence of Aslan, but he soon felt confused as to how he should take it all in, and sought God's holy word for support. It was because of his choice that he discovered a verse that calmed his frantic nerves. "_For someday the people will follow me. I, the Lord, will roar like a lion. And when I roar, my people will return trembling from the west._" Hadn't Peter claimed Aslan roared Narnia into existence? And the time Steve spoke with Phil after the Battle, the agent tried describing what he experienced when he died for a moment, but there was a confusing mention of animals and people and all kinds of creatures moving through a door, from west to east or east to west, Phil wasn't sure, and everything was like a sensory overload to which Steve couldn't grasp what Phil tried saying and Phil himself found he couldn't find the words, so they left it at that. Looking at the verse now, though, Steve thought he could get a good idea. The television across him switched to a news station, and the smile on Steve's lips widened as the reporters kept talking.

XxXx

Tony went through his newer blueprints for the tower as Jarvis informed him of what the media got of the fight in New York. He chuckled when he saw clips of children imitating him and his fellow Avengers, before he noticed the absence of a certain four despite having gone through a majority of news channels. "Where are Angel boy and the others?" he called out to Jarvis. "Mr. Edmund and his siblings aren't in the records, sir." Tony blinked. Wait…_what?_

"What?" he clarified. Jarvis explained. "They don't appear or turn up in any film, sir. Only you and the rest of the Avengers are on tape." Tony asked Jarvis to pull up any and all possible records of the Battle of Manhattan, and sure enough, none of the four monarchs appeared. Stranger still, was despite the billionaire distinctively remembering his little contest with his protector in seeing who could take down Chitauri the fastest, all the tape showed was Ironman and the Hulk fighting it out, Ironman defeating Chituari swiftly without a certain king's presence by him. Tony rewinded one video back a few seconds, but despite how many times he did this, the Pevensie didn't appear, even when he knew this was the moment the teen ducked under Tony's outstretched hand and cut down an alien the same time Ironman let loose a blast. It was an awesome moment. But Edmund wasn't there.

It was as if the four monarchs were ghosts.

After a moment of silence, Jarvis alerted his creator of new news. "Sir, there's a delivery from Dr. Banner. A note attached informs that Dr. Banner wonders if you have watched the news about an island and urges you to read the book shipped in the box." A pause, before he said, "Misses Potts has already opened it and wishes you hurry upstairs and read it." Tony frowned. What could be so important that Bruce had even sent a delivery straight to Stark Tower and not his home where most of the billionaire's mail went?

XxXx

Fury held a book in his hands, the spine thick enough and the cover in tones neutral enough to imply contents of the old, lengthy type. The man hadn't bought it of work necessity, but of choice, though any agents who discovered this didn't question his decision; their director never did anything without purpose. His lone eye gazed at the front cover, the title printed in the traditional serif letter style and written in the gold material that would peel after a few days of good use. Another book sat on the table before him, edges more frayed and certainly much older than the one in his hands. Fury didn't know how many times he used the book that currently sat on the table to say farewell to his agents whom wished to be sent away in that style, and it was the best he could do besides conducting a formal funeral; agents died too often. He was lucky that Coulson was lucky. On the book on the table were the words, _The Holy Bible_.

"Sir?" Barton and Romanoff caught sight of their director distantly staring at the books with him, and Coulson stood to the side as the archer addressed his superior. At the sight of the resurrected man, however, Fury called Coulson to come closer, as this was something they all deserved to know. The director of SHIELD set the book in his hands down on the table next to the other, light reflecting off its gold-printed title, and the three agents behind him read it in surprise before understanding the reason behind their leader's detached state earlier. "Feel free to read," Fury simply stated as he connected gazes with his best agents, and the director left them for his office, giving them privacy.

XxXx

Heimdall silently watched the blonde prince absorb what the watcher learned. It took a great and unknown length of time to share everything, but the two didn't care for how long they stood at the ruins of the bridge, simply talking rather than reporting as they usually did. The last time they had such a conversation, the female mortal had been the subject, though that time Thor did most of the speaking instead of Heimdall, for the latter had a lot to say of the Lady Jane he met on Midgard. The atmosphere indeed shifted when the two Asgardians had this more recent conversation, for while close friends were still the topic, what they discovered only reminded them they were but lives on Yggdrisel, the Tree of Life in which the nine realms existed. Perhaps there were other trees, other dimensions and planes of existence in which life lived, and not for the first time, Thor wondered of the rings his queenly friend once stated she used to go to a wood. He never asked for more, and she never went deeper, but there was always that moment of one's hairs going up on their ends, as if a whisper of magic slithered into their words when they spoke of it. That, however, is a story for another day.

Thor lifted his head after taking in Heimdall's news. "The chapter of this book you speak of, are you sure it's called that?" The watcher nodded. Then, seeing his noble had some background knowledge on the subject at hand, he picked an inquiry in mind. "Have you encountered this book before?" Thor shook his head. "No, but…" the prince's eyes looked off, deeper in memory. "But," _"Of earth…" he meets Lucy's and her sibling's eyes, as he echoes what he recalls the valiant queen told him. "How did you come to be as your are?"_ _The four looked at each other and smiled. "It all started with the lion, the witch, and the wardrobe._" Thor shook his head. "I just didn't expect the chapter title would be so…predictable. And unpredictable. At the same time." Heimdall raised a brow, before recognising the Asgardian was going back into his thoughts again, this time where it would take longer for the prince to come back to reality. The watcher looked to his left, gazing at the stars and nebulae in their beauty, sparks of finer images flashing every now and then as his eyes allowed him to see.

OoOo

With the discovery of a new island already inhabited with people, the world went in a frenzy trying to learn as much as they could from it. How could this island, with people already familiar with an English modern enough to be easily understood, stay hidden from radars and satellites for so long? As scientists struggled to find the answer, journalists traveled there and wrote back their discoveries: that the inhabitants had a sense of honour and righteousness rarely found these days, that they were easily enjoyable people, and like any older civilisation, that had a religion of their own.

These people—who some claim to be Telmarine, others Narnian, the rest, both—told tales of a land where their ancestors came from through a door: a land of talking beasts and tree spirits, a land created by a magnificent lion with a roar that could be heard across mountains and seas. A book written by the earliest of the island's inhabitants gave a look into the Telmarine-Narnians' religion, and the stories there fascinated the entire world when the book was introduced to public. From the Hundred Year Winter to the End of Miraz's Reign, everyone from adults to children were caught in the beauty of the mysterious and exciting writings, and the original authors of the book had titled it—in respect to their claimed experience in this mythical land—The Chronicles of Narnia.

Within the book were legends, of a king with eyes and magnificence like the northern sky; of a queen with beauty that outshone the southern sun and a gentleness that matched it; of another king, with words like entrancing leaves of the western wood and the insight of one representing justice; and of a young queen valiant as a warrior and with ever-flowing love like the eastern sea. Of course, in such a modern day as this, no one knew of a geographical area on Earth that could have a "southern sun" or a "western wood." As the stories could only belong to pages of a fairytale, people treated it as such, never fancying the idea that perhaps the authors of the book—some odd blokes with names like Glozelle—had documented actual history, just not of this world.

And somewhere in America, or across the stars, to where a guard once stood post at a space bridge and shared the news to his prince, Earth's mightiest heroes shared a smile; the stories had reached them when they started to miss the times of old, when kings and queens were also friends and comrades. How else could this island be found at a convenient time for them after the battle in Manhattan, except perhaps by decision of a certain lion? And while their monarchical friends had moved on, their guiding stories and tales simply for laughs were open for the heroes to take in and read—or in the prince's case, hear from the one known as Heimdall—and they knew they were still being watched over. After all, the four siblings were, and always will be, their _guardian angels_.

—

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	19. Idea 1

**I had many ideas how to go about the Avengers x Chronicles of Narnia crossover, but I didn't complete enough, and I was excited to post a story soon, so some documents went unused. Here is just a snippet of what I planned to use! ;)**

**So, in this universe, the Pevensies were supposed to blend in America as children sent abroad for work (Peter and Susan) or college or school (Edmund and Lucy). The cover was meant to allow them to watch over their charges from afar, until Lucy and Susan, who were studying in New Mexico, stumble upon Thor when they were staying at Dr. Selvig, Jane, and Darcy's place, as Peter and Edmund knew Selvig through their intelligence in the sciences. The following was how Peter and Edmund accidentally met Steve. **

—

_Steve remembered the English soldier he ran into enough times to know the name of the good man—Andrew Pevensie, he recalled—and knew the blonde well. Pevensie was a good-hearted soldier, and it was a shame the man was one of many Steve couldn't bid farewell before he woke up in the twenty-first century. Steve only thought of him at the moment, because when the Captain bumped into a young man, sending the products rolling on the floor of the grocery, he honestly thought he was looking at Andrew…. _

"Goodness, I'm so sorry," Steve apologised, helping the young man with the mess. "No, it's quite alright," a British accent floated to Steve's ears. The two blondes looked up and met gazes at the same time. Steve's brows furrowed. "Pevensie?" The young man's posture tensed, before he shot up in obvious panic and tried running away. Steve moved to stop and calm down the other blonde, but their actions resulted in the knocking down of shelved products and scattering the contents of their shopping baskets everywhere. Steve's immense strength tipped a shelf over, leading to a life-sized version of falling dominoes.

A cashier gaped at the falling aisles past his current customer, a black-haired teen, who face-palmed when he heard the havoc.

"Peter Gabriel Pevensie!" the boy roared, and all motion stopped.

XxXx

Steve turned his head to the voice's origin from his pose, having frozen at the bark of a general. When his eyes were met with the image of a young boy, the captain felt surprise, before his soldier instincts picked up the irritated air and the sense of high-ranking starting towards him. The dark-haired male stalked past him, instead stopping at the young man ahead of him who was frozen as if headed to leave the aisle while picking up fallen products. At the sight of the general-like kid, the blonde of the two boys immediately straightened up, fiddling with the cereal boxes in his hand as an escape from the stern gaze directed from his obvious associate. "Ed, I can explain–" "Oh? Explain why you suddenly went hysterical when the store ran out of Lucky Charms?" The blonde made to chuckle before the one named Ed snapped at him with a "Peter!" causing him to drop the cereal boxes.

"Look, it was kind of my fault," Steve got up from his hunched position meaning to catch the falling shelf, deciding he should step up. When the steely dark eyes turned to him, the captain immediately stood straight and scrambled to get his act together. He had to stop himself from saluting. "I surprised your friend here when I addressed him by his last name, sir—I mean, um…." Steve then realised he didn't know if Pevensie even _was_ the other blonde's surname. The dark-haired boy studied Steve for a moment, finding something in him that made him soften his gaze and smile; Steve didn't notice he let out a breath. "I apologise if I gave you the glare that was meant for my brother, though he will hear from me soon enough," the boy sent a warning glance over his shoulder at his sibling at this.

He extended his hand. "Edmund Pevensie, pleasure to meet you." Steve copied the action. "Steve Rogers, likewise." The one named Peter watched the events in slight confusion and quick acceptance. At the introductions, he straightened his act. "Truly sorry, Mr. Rogers, it's just that I was startled a complete stranger knew me." The two blondes shook hands. "Peter Pevensie, sir, and I won't try to dash off again when I see you next time." The three laughed, but a new voice cut in. "I'm not amused." A man around his late-fifties maybe sixties stood before them, putting a hand on one hip while running through his salt-and-pepper hair through the other. Edmund's eyes automatically darted to the man's shirt, a plaque on the wall near the cash registers, and the commercial playing on a TV in the corner.

"Peter and I are willing to pay for any damages, as well as clean up the mess, Mr. Smith," the shorter Pevensie transitioned from army general to responsible monarch the next, Steve thought to himself as he noted the boy's atmosphere. The dark-haired teen wore regality like a cloak, a justness beating with his heart, though Steve felt like Edmund Pevensie had had the presence of a true king right from the start, from the moment the captain laid eyes on him. "Peter?" the old man echoed. In recollection of Edmund's last statement, Steve recognised the face belonging to the ad running on the TV, the label of position on the plaque, and the name stitched on the man's shirt. He was the store manager! "Yes," Peter responded, "Peter Pevensie." "I know you!" Mr. Smith quickly melted into a smile befitting of a kind grandfather, clapping a hand on Peter's shoulder. "You're that doctor prodigy—you helped my young nephew recover after he had an accident with putting away the dishes!"

The blonde Pevensie shared a smile. "Young Dylan, I believe? Make sure he doesn't drop knives anymore, Mr. Smith—or better yet, don't let him handle blades until he's older." The store manager and Peter chuckled and shared thank-you's and welcome's. "You're a doctor?" At Steve's confusion, the pair turned to him. "Mr. Pevensie here graduated medschool at a young age and became a doctor of great renown," Mr. Smith explained proudly. "He can handle everything from stitching to fevers!" Peter chuckled at Mr. Smith's last statement. "Although, I mostly became a doctor because of Edmund's knack for getting hurt in rugby," Peter commented, and, to Steve's surprise, said younger Pevensie blushed. Not a trace of a stern general or monarch was there, replaced instead by an embarrassed, amusing boy.

"I'm truly sorry about the mess, sir," Steve recalled the reason they were talking to the store manager. "It's alright, you three," Mr. Smith assured. "Everyone's always wanted to change the floor tiles to a more durable type; perhaps this time in warm colours? Either way, no one likes the cracked, grey floor, especially when you're using a shopping cart." Everyone chuckled at this. "The mess is no problem—I know you must be busy what with being a well-known doctor, Dr. Pevensie, I just need you and this good sir to pay for the damages." Mr. Smith gestured to Steve at this. "Of course," the soldier nodded and took out his wallet.

Having a bank account that was practically bursting with money earned from his last accomplishments in WWII and his popularity as Captain America proved helpful at times. While Steve didn't really spend much, he kept dozens of hundred dollar bills in his wallet simply because he didn't want to be caught off-guard. And partly because he still wasn't familiar with how to get money from that bank machine with the imposing touch-screen and that slit where a money card, debit card, or _something_ goes in. When Mr. Smith caught sight of Steve' credit card as he was taking out some money, the old man gasped. "You're Captain America!" "Err…yes, sir," Steve modestly replied. The blonde coughed in embarrassment at the attention, before attempting to change topic so he wouldn't have to hear the usual praise. "How much is the price?"

XxXx

"I'm pretty sure there should have been more zeroes on what we should have payed," Edmund commented.

Steve nodded in agreement as he walked with the Pevensie boys, having insisted he help bring their groceries to their home in apology for the mess he felt responsible for. "That's exactly why I gave him plenty more dollars than asked of the two of us," the soldier responded. At the lack of sound from the Pevensie lagging behind, Edmund sent encouraging words over his shoulder. "You can do it, Pete, I carry those books all the time!" The boy was answered with a huff. "I don't see why I have to carry my work stuff, a majority of our groceries, _and_ your school things!" Edmund chuckled in amusement. "Simple, I'm walking our bikes since we can't just leave Mr. Rogers in the dust when he graciously offered to help us with our groceries." "Then why does it feel like I'm going to get shorter carrying this weight!"

The three laughed, Steve amused at the brothers' antics.

—

**References: PE by Tonzura123…doctor-Peter and rugby-Edmund**

Thank you so much for reading _Guardian Angels_!  
1arigato


	20. Idea 2

**When I settled with the "guardian angel" idea, one of my original plans were to write four different fanfiction about each Pevensie and their charge, starting with Edmund, but I didn't complete enough, and I was excited to post a story soon, so some documents went unused. Here are just a few snippets of what I planned to use! ;)**

–––

"I strongly advice against that."

Tony's knee jerked in surprise, slamming painfully into his car, and he cried out in pain and surprise. The black-haired genius spun and glared at his right. In the crowd of fancy-dressed people going to see the awards ceremony, a raven-haired boy around the age of 13 stood, ignoring the crowd around him in favour of chuckling at a certain millionaire. Tony grumbled, before properly entering his car. "I'm a billionaire, if I want to relax in a casino, I'll relax in a casino–awards ceremony or not!" "Rhodey's not going to be happy about this."

For the past month, Tony had been haunted by a raven-haired boy who claimed to be called Edmund Pevensie and Tony's guardian angel. So maybe _haunted_ and _guardian_ _angel_ shouldn't belong to the same sentence, but Tony definitely didn't like this random British kid appearing suddenly and sharing his opinion when guardian angels–if he really was one–were just there to guard. What's more was that "Edmund" never appeared when Tony was in a conversation with anyone or when he was in a big crowd, so no one would question the presence of a kid; the only way Tony could get even was call him a guardian angel rather than "protector" as Edmund insisted. "Guardian angel" sounded too girly, according to the boy, and that was precisely the reason Tony addressed him as such.

"What if I told you you were going to win the awards ceremony? That Rhodey would have to hand the trophy to Obidiah because his long-time friend didn't respect his request and didn't stay for the end of the ceremony?" Tony shook his head at the boy. "Not falling for that!" the billionaire hollered as he started the engine. "Yeah? How many times have I ever been wrong? Tony!" Said genius waved his hand carelessly as he drove to the nearest casino.

Half an hour later, Tony was on a winning streak when Air Force Officer James Rhodes pulled him away and handed him a trophy. "I never want you to take off again, Tony," Rhodey jabbed a finger into his friend's shoulder. "I doubt that. I predicted the last few times Tony took off before hurting the image of Stark Industry's CEO." "Please, it was a given that Stark Industry was going to win the award toda–**you**!" Tony comically pointed at the newer member of the group. Rhodey looked at the boy casually walking by Tony's side, dressed in a school uniform. "Actually, I predict this stuff from observing the people who decide these things; you never know when the expected doesn't occur," the boy protested. "Tony, who's this?" Rhodey inquried.

Tony froze. "You…see him?" "Of course," Rhodey and Edmund replied at the same time, to which the billionaire glared at Edmund for his mischief. "Anyone can see me, I just choose not to be noticed by many," Edmund's lips twitched in amusement.

–––

Duck. Slash. Block, then flip the opponent. Edmund took care of Tony's pursuers as the man escaped base in his metalman suit, the young boy disarming the Afghani before they could shoot him and taking them down with his sword. It faintly reminded the king of Narnia, fighting deep in enemy territory. As he was known for his use of subterfuge, Edmund was also familiar with fighting deep in enemy territory with little to no back-up. Contrary to popular belief, "guardian angels" can get hurt, even killed, but that was why Aslan had chosen Edmund and his siblings for this task.

They didn't go down easily.

When Edmund caught up with Tony, he bowed his head in respect to Dr. Yinsen's sacrifice. "_Doneq emís obviam ste Aslánem, caóra natadelfo,_" he whispered under his breath. Until we meet in Aslan's Country, dear cousin. It was Classic Narnian, the language originally used for engravements in shields, swords, and coat-of-arms; Susan discovered the full book for translating classic Narnian to English and vice versa, and since then, the four siblings and their close friends learned it. They found it useful for discussing battle plans and treaties; the siblings also used it when talking about personal problems: missing their parents and worrying how recent events will turn out.

Tony got up, looking away from Edmund. "You should get out of here before they kill you too," the man said. Edmund only gave a soft smile. "This is the reason I'm guarding you. Few people have the same amount of heart as you." The metalman suit didn't move. "Go, Edmund," Tony insisted. _If that is what you wish,_ Edmund thought, before nodding. "Very well," he complied, and when Tony turned behind him, the boy was gone.

–––

Tony was getting frustrated. Couldn't the boy just leave him alone? Tony was just recently force to kill his mentor and father's advisor, and he wasn't in the mood to "talk about one's heart," as Edmund put it. Even after death Obidiah caused him trouble. Huh. "Get out," the billionaire pointed at Edmund. "Not just this building, but my life. Float, fly away, do whatever 'guardian angels' do, just _leave_." Edmund lips thinned. "There will be a time you won't need me anymore, Tony. _Then_ I'll leave you." Somehow, that only made the billionaire feel worse.

–––

Tony glanced over his shoulder at his companion as the genius billionaire looked over the blueprints for the Stark Tower. The building itself was already built, the only thing missing being the clean energy powering it, so the superhero was allowed a moment of rest. "Something bugging you, angel boy?"

Said dark-haired companion spared a tired glare before delving back into his thoughts. The British boy had been quiet for some time, hardly speaking and simply following Tony around like a bodyguard or sitting in the same room as the genius, staring off into space. No matter what the billionaire said, it irked Tony that his friend and guardian angel was acting as if drowning in worry and self-guilt, feeling responsible for something great and big and terrible. Tony would know. He once acted that way too.

Memories of seeing up front what the Stark weaponry had done to lives flashed briefly through Tony's mind before he finally stood up, flicking his hand so that the blueprints automatically filed away in the database. "Come on, I haven't heard a snarky comment from you in three days–that's disappointing, really," Tony jested in the same way Edmund would to lift Tony's spirits. Realising he was bringing his charge worry, the Englishman waved Tony's attention away and gifted him with a reply. "It's nothing, just…Lucy's charge has been bothering me."

At the raised brow, the "guardian angel" sat up straighter in the couch, more life in his eyes as Tony had tried bringing out. "Lucy is my sister. I have three siblings; Lucy is the youngest, me the second youngest. It wouldn't matter, anyway, the four of us hardly act our age." Edmund was smiling now–well, hardly, but it was there, and that was what mattered. "Your sister's charge is bothering you?" Tony asked, moving to the bar to pour himself a drink. "Not exactly," Edmund sighed, "it's more of his brother." Tony continued talking the troubles out of the boy, asking questions. "You concern yourself with other angels' babies?"

Edmund choked on air, torn between horror and laughter. "_Protectors_ and _charges_," he corrected, but the reprimanding failed under obvious amusement, "and there's nothing a sibling can hide from one another, so we're aware of big events in the lives of each other's charges." Tony feigned alarm. "Then dear Lucy and family would have heard of my privatising world peace? Taking down bad guys? Modelling?" The humour build up was just too much, and the two dark-haired males finally broke in laughter. It was that scene Pepper walked in, asking Tony about the energy source for the building and what they were laughing about, and later, after Ironman lit up Stark Tower, Phil Coulson would enter the building and hand over a file labeled **The Avengers Initiative**.

–––

Thank you so much for reading _Guardian Angels_!  
1arigato

Also, if you're interested, I have a Sherlock/Mission: Impossible crossover out! An Inception/Sherlock crossover is also in progress. :D


	21. Philip

Philip

One has lived through his life. The other is just getting started with his second one.

–––

"Stay with me, soldier." I'm afraid I can't promise that, Captain. Tell my family I'm sorry. "Phil–!" But Phil Coulson was already gone. He died in Captain America's arms, though. Not even in his wildest dreams could Phil imagine that happening. A bubble of laughter escapes Phil's lips before he knows it.

A door. Tall, wide, and majestic, it stands as a memorial to a world of love and loss, standing aside and leaving its doorframe open to all who would enter. Animals and creatures are moving through it, and Phil swears the trees are too. Brilliant figures are singing as their blue, ethreal light scatters around them like a star in the night sky, but even their glow can't compare with the beauty of the land they are leaving behind, and the land they are moving to. In fact, Phil can see that the newer place is bigger, more full of life; even its colours seem somehow more enhanced than those of the old land. "No more Narnia, Archenland, or Calormene. Just further up, further in," some creatures are saying. Phil wants to walk with them to the new land, the one further somewhere, the land that is simply _more_.

"It is not your time."

A horse with rich, brown hair is standing beside Phil, but Phil doesn't even notice the stallion until he had turned at the voice, to which he jumped in surprise at the presence he was previously oblivious to. The horse had talked. "Who are you?" Phil asks. Brown eyes glitter in response. Phil frowns. "Am I dead?" Could all this be a dream? Dying in Steve's arms was a far fetched idea, after all. Maybe the exhaustion from fighting aliens was finally getting to Phil. He has never seen this talking horse before, but if the stallion was willing to speak to Phil, maybe he could give answers. Phil's brain might give some through his dreams, but maybe that was far fetched as well. "Why am I here?" Phil asks. "I once looked up to the Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve who would restore the throne in Narnia," the horse states. Phil is starting to get how civilians and his co-workers feel whenever Phil cryptically replies to questions he can't answer without the Director's permission. It's especially annoying when an animal supposedly lower than him in the food chain is doing it.

"They weren't all I thought them to be, though. They were so young, just foals; the kingdom of Narnia was something they had never seen before," the horse continues, scuffing a hoof on the ground like a human would make hand gestures while speaking. "They had come from a completely different time, a different world. I suppose I was a little intimidating the first few days I met them." Phil wouldn't mind listening to what more his exhausted, dreaming mind could come up with, but he really would like to return to the battlefield and help the others. Phil Coulson refuses to be dead so long he still breaths. "The one boy I thought I would never personally associate with somehow became my charge. He also became my best friend – besides Oreius, of course." The horse was _still_ talking. "Who are you?" Phil asks again. Suddenly, the air around the stallion changes – denser, saturated with genuine seriousness – that Phil takes a step back. "Don't you ever find yourself waiting for them to come back – for _him_ to come back. They will return when they are needed," the horse orders. "Don't make the mistake I did, hoping for what wasn't to be. Sometimes Aslan works in mysterious ways." "Why would Steve leave the Avengers?" Phil hears the words leave his lips, before his heart quickens in realisation of what he had done. "How did I understand what you were trying to say?" he follows up his question with another.

This time, the horse smiles. It bring no comfort to Phil, who begins to see that this is no dream. "Go, Philip." Phil's heart is beating faster in fright of how nothing is making sense. An underlying current of rightness cools his nerves, fortunately, though Phil can't stop his quicker heartbeat. "How do you know my name?" he asks the horse. Instead, the stallion gently trods over and pushes Phil back with his nose, right where Phil's chest wound should be. "I wished I could have taken my boy's injuries instead," the horse shares. "I'm just glad you were able to protect him in my place." Phil's brows furrow. Understanding tickles the base of his neck, before stretching across his back and shoulders, enveloping him in a hug and opening his eyes. The nudge the horse gave had backed Phil up to where the ground was softening, indicating a change of dimensions. The world around him is blurring, and Phil knows his time in this land that is not a dream is coming to an end. "Philip?" he identifies, but the horse simply smiles. "Not a past life," the horse states, "just one lived the same time as yours." A lion walks up beside the horse, glowing like a torch in Phil's mind's eye. "Rise, young ones," a fatherly, strong voice commands, shaking even Phil's core. Everything starts to vibrate around Phil, and he suddenly doesn't know where he is. The movement increases, its beat weaving in and out with another and then uniting with it, settling down for one rhythm, before Phil realises it's his heartbeat. He desperately searches for something to anchor himself to, when his eyes open to New York City skyscrapers. The lion has walked up to him, this time closer and definitely real.

_Philip Riley Coulson. _

Phil gets up on his elbows and bows his head a little.

_Aslan. _

He pauses, before continuing his thought aloud,

"I am dead."

Aslan smiles. "What is lost has been properly found, dear child. Death shall meet you another day." Philip the horse's words come back to him. _"It is not your time."_ Then, memories of Susan's horn and what Phil had almost done. Phil bows his head more, grateful that the lion had taken care of the horn thrown in the sewer and had forgiven Phil. He gets up as Aslan turns to the Avengers and the monarchs, and Phil smiles at them, assuring he was truly alive. When he takes a step forward, Phil swears he can feel Philip the horse nosing him gently on the chest again, but when Phil looks, no one is there. He peels away his bandages, however, and discovers his chest wound is gone. Only a scar remains, and Phil traces it for a moment, his mind trying to catch up with what had recently happened. Phil realises he'll never meet Philip the horse again, but a small smile lights up his face anyway.

_Thank you._

Aslan looks at Phil during his talk with Loki, as if having heard Phil's thoughts, and sends the briefest of deepest gazes, before continuing his conversation. With that, Phil knows Aslan will pass along the message to Philip the horse. Phil then glances at Steve, his childhood hero, and remembers Philip's words. If Steve left the Avengers, it wouldn't hurt Phil as much as it would now, thanks to the horse who could talk, the horse who shared the same name as Phil and had gone through the pain of waiting before to help Phil when his time of watching his friend leave would come.

_Thank you,_

Phil thinks again. It will be hard to recover from what had occured in the span of only three or so days, but the world always went on, even if some people didn't. Phil refused to be one of the people who did. Thank you, he thought.

_For helping me move forward. _

–––

**A/N: A little corny, I know, but I wrote this in only a few hours while I usually write things in a few days, and the inspiration just hit me, so I had to get it all out before my imagination disappeared! Thanks for reading even after the story was completed! X3**


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